


Diamonds for Destiny

by magicgenetek



Series: Dead Men's Party [4]
Category: Kingdom Hearts, The Princess and the Frog (2009)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alien Cultural Differences, Asexuality, Baby Names, Canon - Kingdom Hearts I, Childbirth, Clones, Cultural Differences, Disabled Character of Color, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Drama, Gift Giving, M/M, Magic, Materia, Mild Blood, Misunderstandings, Multi, Nightmares, POV Character of Color, Past Violence, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Kingdom Hearts I, Racism, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, White Privilege, references to lynching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2018-04-18 18:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 79,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4716869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicgenetek/pseuds/magicgenetek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luxord is an undead creature, soulless, a demon hunter capable of going toe to toe with the biggest and baddest in New Orleans. He's also paying Doctor Facilier a gemstone an hour to take him to the best restaurants in the French Quarter while he gossips about his annoying co-workers, and trains Facilier in magic - real magic, not sleight of hand - in preparation for recruitment into Luxord's Organization. It's Facilier's favorite job.</p><p>But the keyblade has chosen a wielder, and now Luxord must balance his duties observing Sora and his desire to bask in Facilier's presence. The days are counting down to when Facilier realizes what helping the Organization really entails...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day -143: The Learning Curve

The Gray Room was enormous, gray, and had a window that overlooked the city below. Skyscrapers full of lesser nobodies had lights on through the dark days; it was as if the sky and ground had flipped, with gray concrete above and starry night below.

The same view every day and every night. The same people waiting for orders on the dirty white couches. If Luxord wasn't aware of the heavy gazes of his elders on his neck, he'd be squirming with impatience.

Today he got to go to Bayou Boulevard, after all.

“Saix won't be here for another ten minutes,” said the man on the couch. His beautiful golden tresses did not fit at all with his fish eyes and knife-sharp cheekbones. “Sit down and play chess with us instead of pacing. You're going to give people a headache.”

“Yes, Vexen,” Luxord said, and went and sat next to him.

“No, no, sit opposite of me!”

Luxord gestured at the sofa across from them as if to say _where am I supposed to sit?_

There was Lexaeus sitting there, who was built like a brick wall, with a face like a brick and hair like a thousand tiny red bricks. And there was Zexion dozing against his shoulder, his long long bangs hiding if he was fully asleep or if he was ready to go from zero to sarcastic the moment someone disturbed him.

“It's a request from me! I'm sure Zexion won't mind moving if I tell him to,” Vexen said, crossing his arms. “After all, he's only No. VI and I'm No. IV! I outrank him. He'll have to move.”

Luxord very deliberately made a face to show his disbelief, then said, “Zexion, are you wiling to move? No. IV here wants me to play chess with him.”

“Fuck off,” Zexion muttered, and flopped into Lexaeus's lap.

Vexen squawked. Luxord shrugged. “It didn't work when he was fourteen and it didn't work when he still called you Papa. It's not going to work now.”

Vexen made another angry noise, but then Lexaeus spoke. “Coffee.” He patted Zexion's head. “The Dusks should have a pot ready for you now.”

“I know what you're doing,” Zexion said, but he sat up and got off the couch nonetheless. “Let's see if they managed to get my favorite right this time.”

Lexaeus followed him, long legs taking small steps to match Zexion's pace.

Luxord took Lexaes's seat and turned the chess board around. “There. Prepared for chess?”

Vexen seethed.

Luxord sighed. “Pretending you feel upset about it won't make him stop doing it. It's not scientific to let the memories of your emotions get the better of you.”

“He should be listening to me! I'm his superior and his father.”

“You can't be a superior officer and a parent,” Luxord said. He swapped around his rook and his king, en passant. “You can't make someone play by both solitaire and poker rules to force a win. Choose one.”

Vexen snapped a pawn forward. “You're giving me advice on Zexion now?”

“You are No. IV and I am but No. X. I'm well aware of my position. I simply wish to suggest a way to help you with less agreeable subordinates.” Luxord picked up a pawn. “I hate it when the knight and the bishop fight.”

A sigh. “You're right, of course. If people listened to me more, we'd be so much closer to our goals! I don't understand why people can't be as well behaved as you are. It's too bad you can't work in the labs with us.”

“It is,” Luxord said, and smiled guilelessly. He doubted Vexen would ever make it worth his while to let him into the labs for a job – and Vexen thinking him intelligent enough to work there was as likely to happen as spontaneously regrowing a heart. But it paid to keep Vexen happy, or 'happy' as the case was – Vexen's relationships with his family, however strained, fed the memories that let him mimic emotions, which made him tricky to work with unless proper words were applied. “You're a valuable member of our straight flush.”

“Thank you,” Vexen preened. He started to talk about his latest project, and Luxord smiled and nodded and made encouraging comments as they played chess.

Vexen was in charge of the biotech section of the Organization's science team, and so half of the things he talked about sailed over Luxord's head like so many projectiles. Replicant Program, data seeding, data replicant, evolving replicant illusitech – there was a point at which Luxord could only listen and nod.

Which he did until Zexion and Lexaeus returned. Lexaeus handed Luxord a mug of coffee shot with the best faux chocolate you could get within a three world radius and Vexen one green with mint flavoring. Luxord sipped appreciatively. “Thank you.”

Zexion had a cup big enough to fit his forearm into, and was sipping through a straw. “Now that we've finished the insipid pleasantries, can I have the couch back?”

“Saix will be here with our instructions in five minutes! Stand,” Vexen snapped.

“I spent all night getting heartless out of the modem so that someone could log their research this morning,” Zexion replied. “Maybe if someone hadn't let the Possessor Heartless loose for his experiments again, I could have gotten enough sleep last night.”

Luxord vacated the couch and hovered in the safety of Lexaeus's bulk as Zexion and Vexen started arguing. Lexaeus let Luxord guide them both a safe distance away, then said, “I'll give you an elixir if you bring back beignets.”

“Deal,” Luxord said, and allowed his hand to brush Lexaeus's.

* * *

 

Facilier was in his shop grinding herbs into a fine paste with mortar and pestle when he heard Luxord's footsteps on his ceiling. He didn't stop. Luxord wouldn't – shouldn't mind, should he? He seemed happy to tag along last week, so maybe he wouldn't mind him working this week.

The door to the upstairs swung open. “How's your leg?” Luxord asked, without so much as a by your leave or hello. As friendly and loud as the tabby toms that Facilier would lure with dinner scraps to get a lock of hair for a talisman.

Facilier looked up from his work table and couldn't help a smile. “None of your business, magic boy.”

Luxord grinned back and leaned over the table. “Good. I want to get beignets and get out the maps so we can find areas of magical density. They make it easier to learn magic.”

Thud. Facilier let his mortar stay in the pestle as the words sank in. "They make it easier to do _what now_?"

"Learn magic - ah, that's such a vague word in this language, isn't it?” Luxord shrugged as if he were talking about the weather or a bus schedule. “To learn the magic of the elemental rainbow, of materia and magicite. My world's magic."

Facilier's eyes didn't move from Luxord's. “You. Want to teach me magic,” he said; he didn't know if the racing of his heart was terror or excitement or both. Magic. Luxord's flashy fighter's magic with gemstones and monsters that could injure with a thought – the kind of thing that would get him burned at the stake two centuries ago if Luxord didn't set the entire town on fire first.

“Of course I do!” Luxord spun his materia bracelet, letting the rainbow of gemstones catch light from Facilier's candles. “You said you were wary of joining the Organization without knowing magic or how to fight, didn't you? I can teach both. I'm the idiot child of the family, but I've managed to learn enough not to die.”

Luxord had fought two of the Friends on the Other Side to a standstill a week before armed with nothing but a deck of cards and his own magic; by his own admission, he'd survived nine years of a demon – Heartless? - apocalypse and having his soul – heart? - whatever ripped out of him, and had risen to the top of his soulless quasi-undead Organization afterwards. Idiot child – was it false modesty or was Luxord truly the runt of some family of walking natural disasters?

“If you're the idiot of the family, I hate to see what the rest of you are like,” Facilier said. He stopped the spin of the bracelet with two fingers on a bright blue gem. Condensation wet his fingers.

“My younger brother, before he was able to speak, told people he had nightmares by giving everyone else nightmares. That's not a metaphor. People had waking hallucinations for two months before someone figured out the issue.” Luxord shrugged. “He has a rare talent. He makes everyone else miserable with it but it's still a talent.”

Facilier pursed his lips. “What, does he still give people visions?”

“No, he knows he has a talent and uses it to lord over the rest of the population. May Cosmos help him because he has to babysit all these people twice his age.” Luxord took the pose of a fainting madam, hand on his forehead. “What, do I need to make way in the hall for someone of such tiny intellect? Have they need of the couch I require, for I tired myself with endless genius work?” A sharp look. “Too bad. I need it more than you.”

Facilier tried and failed to stifle a laugh. “Been dealing with genius long, have you?”

“Whyever would I count the years I was blessed with an unending font of wisdom?” Luxord continued in his brother's haughty tone, then softened. “You don't mind?”

Facilier shrugged. “You said your family's worse than mine last week. It's nice to see some proof.”

“Proof?!” Luxord's shoulders twitched – a small tell, but a tell nonetheless.

“I've never seen you so flustered before,” Facilier purred.

Luxord folded his hands behind himself and put on a blank face. “As a Nobody, I cannot experience emotions such as being flustered.”

“Yes, but you certainly seem to remember how to act like it!”

Luxord looked away, his features locking. Facilier had mistepped. Quickly, he touched Luxord's hand, and Luxord's shoulders twitched again as he looked back at Facilier. “It's fine. Just because you're not human doesn't mean you're not, ah, _human._ There's nothing wrong with getting sick of your family.”

Luxord's expression flickered before settling on a smile. He knelt down at Facilier's side, touching his hand in return. “Thank you,” he murmured. He added, louder: “What are you grinding?”

“Fresh sage. Got it from someone who works at a greenhouse; I use it for a lot of different things. Very useful plant.” Facilier lifted the mortar and Luxord took it and lifted it to his face, sniffing deeply. “Careful you don't get any on your nose.”

“My nose is not that big,” Luxord said, and handed the mortar back.

“Big as your brother's ego,” Facilier said, and Luxord laughed.

Facilier's Shadow popped xir head up from the table and slid onto the wall. Xe made a few gestures at one of Facilier's bookshelves, then pointed at Luxord as well as a two dimensional shadow could. _Make him get the maps!_

Which was. Certainly a valid thing, Facilier supposed. Luxord had proven himself somewhat more trustworthy than the average customer by fighting the Friends when he thought they were threatening Facilier. And he had muscles to lift a man without breaking a sweat, and walking around didn't make his knees threaten to give out. And he was from space China, maybe. Space Japan. Space not Europe.

But even if he wasn't white, he looked white and Facilier kept on feeling his thoughts go into old, safe patterns. Let me fetch this for you, let me help you with that, if I obey you then you won't hurt me -

Which was a survival skill that had worked for most of his life, but if he had the freedom to not have to peck and bow for more people than he had to, then he should go ahead and do that.

“Can you get the maps? They're on the top bookshelf,” he said, and gestured.

Luxord nodded and went to the bookshelf, grabbed the maps, and started laying them out on the floor. “So. If this world had terrain I was accustomed to, I'd be able to pinpoint areas that could have high magic, but it doesn't. There wouldn't be much point in training somewhere more than a half hour's travel away since that would leave little time for the actual training, so city maps should suffice.”

“Where do you usually find lots of magic?” Facilier asked.

“Areas with high geological activity; places with earthquakes, volcanoes, hot springs, and so on. But there's no mountains or volcanoes here, as far as I can see, which means that it'll be more likely to be in a forest or on a beach.”

“All natural stuff, huh? Can places with humans be magic hotspots?”

“They can be, but it's rare. Those are usually places with a lot of machines or in schools. Or graveyards, but that's a bad idea.” Luxord took out a silver pocket watch and dangled it from a long chain; there was a small clear crystal affixed to the end. He started swinging it in small circles over the maps. “May as well roll in blood and ask to get possessed.”

“Amen to that. Tourists keep thinking that just because I'm a voudouist that I deal in disrupting the sleep of the dead. It's not like that at all!”

As the watch spun, the crystal began to glow. “What is a voudouist?” Luxord asked, and then rattled into a series of words that Facilier only recognized as cursing from the tone. All over the map shone spots of pure white light, blossoming like lilies – first around former plantation houses, then filling in the streets, slowly covering the maps until the entire floor glowed. It was too bright for Facilier to look at directly.

“It's religion, I'll explain later? What's wrong?” Facilier asked.

“Death magic. The entire city's full of death magic,” Luxord said.

Facilier stared up at the ceiling, which was pearly from the reflected light. Looking at the floor would be like looking at the sun. “Somehow I''m not surprised.”

“Was there a massacre here?” Luxord flipped the watch into his hands and the light faded.

Facilier crossed his arms. “I told you about slavery, didn't I? And plantations.”

“Generally it's in one's benefit to keep the slaves alive, since it takes more energy to replace one than to keep one. You can't just – replace a human being in a flash.”

Facilier felt sickened laughter well up inside him. “You have no idea what slavery here really meant, do you? You don't know what it means.”

“What did it mean?”

Facilier gestured at a chair. “You'll want to sit down when I explain this, utopia boy.”

* * *

 

“Kidnapped how many – you mean to say, entire countries?!”

* * *

 

“How many died on the boats?”

* * *

 

“Kill them, kidnap them, replace them when they died in a year - ”

* * *

 

“You mean, everyone you know over 50 has a brand?!”

* * *

 

“You mean it was still legal when your mother was born?!?”

* * *

 

“They lynch people how many - “

“Multiple times a week, yes,” Facilier repeated, and rubbed his face. “Sometimes I help move the bodies since I'm the only one who can get high enough in the tree to cut the rope without using a ladder. Or I can do what I can if I find someone who hasn't died yet. ”

Luxord swore under his breath again and made the triangle with his fingers. Maybe it was like the sign of the cross, Facilier thought; warding himself against the evils of the world.

“How do you not just – decide to take as many of them out with the masks as you can?”

Facilier snorted and played with his cane. “First of all, I'd like to get my heart back in the next fifty years. If I ask for that much from them, they may well decide to just eat me and find another patsy. I like being alive. And second off,” and he tapped the map, “if I killed one white person, they're liable to kill a hundred of us in revenge. Hell, there was one city up north – there was a rumor that a white woman got raped and they burned the entire black district to the ground for it. I got too much family here to risk it.”

Luxord gave Facilier a worried look and flashed the triangle again. Facilier sighed and pulled his cane up to his chest; he hadn't expected Mr. Demons And Magic to be so shocked by all this. The world had always been like this, as long as his granny and his granny's granny could remember. And his granny was _old._ How was that worse than literal demon apocalypse?

Why was Luxord staring at him like he expected Facilier to shatter like glass in a hurricane?

“It's not like I'm completely helpless,” Facilier said, and took his hat off to show the skull on it. “I worship Bonye, the great creator, and I work with the lwa Baron Samedi, a spirit who helps the dead travel safely to – I guess you aliens would say to Kingdom Hearts? The afterlife. Whatever you'd call it. I can help put spirits to rest, and I can help when people are on the verge of death to live or to die in peace.”

“That's what the mark of the skull means?” Luxord asked.

“And the top hat. I wanted to become a priest before I got mixed up with them, but that's not happening now,” Facilier said, and gestured at the dormant masks of the Friends. “I only try to feed them white people since I've got standards, but it's still mucking around with demons. I'm not going to pass myself off as a good person or a priest while I'm doing that.”

“Perfectly reasonable,” Luxord said. “We serve different masters than the living. It'd bode ill to pretend otherwise.”

Facilier snorted. “Who'd have thought the one person who understood this stuff was an alien?”

“Because this world is full of monsters but it's not safe to admit it unless you're not from this world? Or,” Luxord said, fingers curling elegantly, “because you're going to become an alien like me.”

“I wish,” Facilier said. He grinned. “How will I look when I grow some alien Mickey Mouse ears?”

Luxord grinned back. “No difference.”

Facilier threw his hat at Luxord, laughing.

* * *

 

Water dripped off the blue gemstone and between Facilier's fingers. He inhaled and exhaled, rolling the circular gem in his palm as Luxord circled him.

“A materia is crystallized energy. You have a little piece of a river in your hands. Feel the water flow like the blood in your veins. Take the surge of your heartbeat and let it beat through the materia,” Luxord said.

“How do you get a river to crystallize?” Facilier asked. Blood rushed in his ears like the tide rising and falling.

“No one knows. Some think that it was through the same mechanism as fossilization. Others think it was caused by the Keyblade Wars that rent the universe from one world into many. Or humans freed magic from the gods, devoured it, and were destroyed in retribution; every piece of materia is a little piece of their bodies and a gift.”

Facilier listened to his heart beat. More water flowed between his fingers, pattered onto his crossed legs and soaked into his pants. “Space history sounds a lot more interesting than ours. What's a keyblade?”

“A magical weapon used to lock and unlock magical barriers. Keybearers were the ones to lock away the paths to quarantined worlds like yours. The most powerful of them could alter the composition of a heart, although this is illegal now.”

Facilier's eyes flew open. “You mean they could shove a sword in someone's soul and just change it?!”

“Yes,” Luxord said, then spun his hands. “Well, they could, but they're all dead now. The last one died when Radiant Garden fell.”

“Ok, good,” Facilier said, and water gushed from between his hands and splashed all over his legs.

Luxord clapped his hands. “You're getting it!”

“There better be a materia for drying off pants,” Facilier muttered, and wrung out one pants leg. “At least it's warm.”

“It should be about body temperature,” Luxord said.

“Yes, I figured that out. Feels like when Boni was still in diapers,” Facilier said. Little spurts of water burst out between his fingers. “But I did do that, didn't I?”

“You did,” Luxord said.

“I know magic!”

“You know magic!”

“I know magic!” Facilier jumped to his feet and spun around.

When he slipped in the water, Luxord caught him and helped him to his feet. “And soon you're going to know more,” Luxord said. “You know what this calls for?”

“What?”

“Beignets! I'll pay.”

Facilier tapped his cane to Luxord's chest. “Sounds like a plan.”

“And before then,” Luxord said, popping out a bright red gemstone out of his bracelet, “you can try using a Fire materia to dry your pants out.”


	2. Day -138: Cursed Castle/Irritating Inhabitants

“The Pharmacists are all very insular, just like Marluxia. Remember to offer them remuneration if they refuse to let you look at their ledgers. Flattery works wonders,” Luxord instructed the three Gamblers.

Luxord's Nobody assistants were spindly creatures that looked like animated clothing: a pink three-pointed helm connected to long pink sleeves over a longer silver dress and oversized pink boots. Their hands were invisible, but still worked – could grasp cards and dice as well as oversized file folders, which the three in front of Luxord were grasping now.

 _We have the lists of things to look for,_ the Gambler on the left said. _If Marluxia or his Pharmacists are stealing from Castle Oblivion, we'll find out._

“Good,” Luxord said. He turned to the other two. “Ready?”

 _Ready, sire!_ They chorused.

The four of them gathered around the large marble orb next to the staircase. The rest of the room was white; the walls were white, the jars on posts were white, the coat of arms over the staircase was white, the floor was white, the stand for the orb was white.

Everything was white in Castle Oblivion.

It had taken Luxord two months to figure out that rooms with staircases were safer than the ones without, six months to develop the magic orbs that made sure those rooms didn't warp you through the castle, and another four to link the orbs in the castle together so one could teleport between floors safely. Castle Oblivion was still a threat to both body and mind, not to mention the eyes, but all the four of them had to do was touch the stone and announce their floor and they would be taken there in an instant, without having to traverse the accursed floors.

“Fourteenth floor.”

With a zzzap, they were brought to the top floor of the castle. Marluxia had made the area his own; pots with red poppies, mauve oleander and white easter lilies sat under UV lights next to a plastic desk stacked with cards. A stack of papers was weighted down with a tiny golden birdcage.

Marluxia himself was writing at his desk. He was a beautiful man; layered pink hair unfurled around his chin like a blooming foxglove and his skin was the milky white of hemlock sap. The only thing sharper than his eyeliner was his smile.

Luxord peered over his shoulder. “Dispensation for two bottles of wine and fried chicken to use to test heartless reactions to heartful food,” he said flatly.

Marluxia looked up with a smile. “The testing on heart-ful foods continues.”

“Of course,” Luxord said. “The last ten tests were not enough, I see.”

“Doesn't Vexen say that science requires testing? I think it's worth seeing if items made with heart can attract the heartless.”

Their gazes locked. Marluxia's eyes were the sweet blue of monkshood, and Luxord refused to let them poison him. “This project wasn't cleared with the Superior. There's been a 20% inventory loss since you started managing Castle Oblivion, Marluxia, and he wants to know why.”

Marluxia chuckled. “My Pharmacists fight with items. You've seen them, haven't you?”

Luxord had seen the Pharmacists. They appeared to wear all silver ruffled dresses with a tiny pink gas mask covering their heads. Axel said they looked like giant condoms with pinched tips; Luxord wouldn't really know, having only seen one on a banana, but the Gamblers who worked with Pharmacists agreed and giggled about it among themselves that _of course Marluxia's minions looked like condoms because he's a dick_. No one said it to their faces, though; no one wanted to piss off a Nobody that kept all kinds of dangerous things in their many hidden pockets and billowing sleeves. The Pharmacists were slow moving, but they had a very good throwing arm and could use common items to make grenades, smoke bombs, tear gas and all kinds of other projectiles.

“The Superior says if you don't keep better track of your item use, he's going to send Saix here to do it for you.”

Marluxia's smile froze. “There's no need for that.”

“My Gamblers are here to do an audit and to watch your item use. I don't want to hear that they 'accidentally' walked into the wrong section of the castle,” Luxord said. “If any of them don't come back, I will assume you killed them and send Saix to deal with you.”

Delicate: “Are you threatening me?”

“I'm stating a fact. We are the Organization, not your old school board. None of us are friends. If you want me to approve your expenses, I expect you to at least pretend to toe the line.” Luxord took Marluxia's pen and wrote DENIED on the expense report. “You have allowed irregularities in your reporting for the past nine months. Get better at embezzlement or find a way to pay for it without hurting our plans.”

Marluxia clicked his pen's top. “You let Zexion embezzle.”

“Zexion doesn't take enough to get attention, nor does he practically write 'date night with Larxene' on his reports.”

“You know him from your homeworld. You're biased,” Marluxia said.

“Most of us are from one world. I can't help it if you came from a Quarantine so backwater you only knew one spell.”

“I'd like to see you cultivate _p_ _apaver somniferum_ and _cannabis sativa_ on a teacher's budget.”

“I'd like to see you make some progress on my budget.” Luxord stepped back and circled the desk. “Saix and Zexion would both use your failure to gain points with the Superior. We have had two No. XI before you. As fond as you are of Larxene, I don't think you want her to be promoted.”

Marluxia turned in his chair and stood up, cupping Luxord's face. “Isn't there something I can give you that can get me political points?” His breath was warm against Luxord's mouth.

Luxord stepped away again. “Get your ledgers done early,” he replied.

The Gamblers descended on Marluxia's paper stacks as Luxord turned. Larxene was sitting on the teleportation orb. Her slicked back blonde hair was only disturbed by two prongs of hair sticking up like an electrical cord's plug, and her smile was like a firework – aesthetically pleasing but only from a safe distance.

“Talking about me behind my back is aw-ful-ly rude, Luxord,” she said, punctuating every syllable with a finger wag. “It's not like I'm some wayward girlfriend he's throwing diamonds at. I'm part of the Organization too. Maybe I like having chicken for dinner instead of the crap they serve in the cafeteria.”

“Then write that down. You do have a discretionary fund for frivolous expenses. Use it instead of putting it on Organization funds.”

“You are no fun.” Larxene booped him on the nose. “Maybe we're saving up for something nice, huh?”

Luxord didn't blink. “That still doesn't justify using Organization money for candlelit chicken dinners.”

“Oh, come on, live a little. Everyone in the Organization has some secret extra curricular activity that gets in the way of things.” Larxene started counting off on her fingers. “Saix takes the stick up his ass out so Axel can put his in. The Elders send us out to find heartless for their freaky experiments and then we have to clean up when those heartless get loose. Xemnas spends half his time playing peek a boo with Maleficent on Hollow Bastion. Demyx can't put his pants on right without you helping. And you enable them by throwing money at them until they stop bothering you about it!”

“Technically, Money Toss is a skill all gamblers learn,” Luxord said with a straight face.

“The least you can do is enable us so that we stop bothering you,” Larxene said and leaned on Luxord's shoulder.

“If you would do your paperwork correctly and stopped disappearing inventory, I would love to throw money at you until you left me alone. As it is, if I come back without results, Saix will put my head on a stick and hit you with it until fear entered the pinhole your heart once resided in.”

Larxene laughed, slapping Luxord's chest. Luxord stiffened. “What a card you are, Luxord! We'll try and get that all wrapped up for you. You're reasonable enough with a little talking to. You've got no pride to tweak and no anger to rouse, so all we have to do is figure out how to make you roll out the doormat and you get along just fine.”

“Just so,” Luxord said. He picked her up, dumped her on Marluxia's desk, and quickly backstepped to the marble orb. “I have more duties to attend to. Farewell!”

And without another word, he teleported to the first floor.

* * *

 

“Hemlock, foxglove, oleander – so is this Marluxia a poisonous plant or what?” Facilier asked through a mouthful of key lime pie.

Luxord nodded as he scraped his plate. “He grows them because he is one, and because he uses them to fight. Why else would he use a scythe? That's a terrible, unwieldy weapon – but if you need something that is guaranteed to smack someone and poison them, I suppose you could do worse.”

“It's a symbol of death for some people. The Grim Reaper carries one to chop the soul out of a person,” Facilier said. “Ridiculous. Death's not like a harvest. The threat comes from the dying part, not the actual afterlife.”

“Agreed, and that would explain it. He seeks the spotlight like a sunflower to the sun.” Luxord posed. “I, Marluxia, have magnanimously agreed to cooperate and it's certainly not because I was being pressured. Why can't you get a more agreeable accountant? Luxord is so hard to work with.”

Facilier snorted. “You should have squeezed him harder.”

“With Larxene around? About as doable as catching a wet cat. She takes any conversation she can put her hands on and derails it like a boulder on the tracks. Then she - “ Luxord started putting hands all over himself to demonstrate what Larxene did next. “You either get out of the room or end up with her hanging off your shoulders whispering threats into your ear.”

“Is she one of those people who can't keep her hands to herself?” Facilier asked.

Luxord nodded and shuddered. “It's enough to make one remember how discomfort feels like. I picked the most hardy of my Gamblers to work there; I can only hope they can stand those two and their sycophants.”

“With how those two push and shove, you can only hope. Your coworkers sound like misery.” Facilier nibbled on his pie's flaky crust. “So, if you've got Gamblers and Marluxia's got Pharmacists, who works for Larxene? Torturers? Axe murderers?”

“Ninjas,” Luxord said gravely.

“I don't know what a ninja is.”

“On my world, a ninja is part spy, part assassin. They blend into the background through disguises and magic until the time is right, and then strike like lightning.” Luxord picked up his food knife and tapped the flat side. “From the side, Larxene's ninjas look like warriors in light armor, with boxy shoulders and a wasp waist. But from the front,” and he turned the knife so that Facilier could see the edge straight on, “they look like this.”

Facilier stared for a moment as he tried to work this out. “You mean they're flat like a knife?”

“Yes. Their every edge is sharp as a knife. They only exist in two dimensions.”

“Then how do they walk? They don't have legs.”

“Have you ever seen an eel swim?”

Facilier shuddered. “That's disgusting.”

“They were created with function over form. I'm not entirely sure how Nobodies are transformed from standard Dusks to the elite staff, the biology's over my head; I believe they each get a little bit of their superior's essence injected into them. My Gamblers are all a little me, I think, hence why they have a friendly disposition and countenance.”

“How – no, don't even start to explain it to me. I don't want to know. I want to keep my pie down,” Facilier said.

“Then I won't. Do you want more pie?” Luxord asked.

“I'd love more pie. I have to say I like how you toss money at my problems.”

Luxord beamed.


	3. Day -132: Up All Night to the Sun

“I've already arranged that we'll work together today on shield maintenance, so you shouldn't feel too stressed,” Luxord said as he walked through the long white corridor to The Grey Room.

Demyx, walking alongside him, groaned. Some of his hastily gelled hair fluff wiggled like corn silk. “Saix was riding my ass all last night because he figured out I let Zexion do all the fighting on our last assignment. What's his problem? We still caught all the heartless and nobody died.”

“It's the principle of the matter. I realize that being such a, ah, long lived person as yourself finds spending five years with no heart a simple matter of waiting, but we're all trying our best to pull together and save ourselves. At least doing the bare minimum would make him back off,” Luxord advised.

“What's the point? Then he'll raise the bare minimum and say I need to do that, and then raise it higher and higher. Dude, you weren't into this whole hunt the heartless thing when you got recruited, remember?” Demyx flicked Luxord's arm. “The Elders had to sit on you for like a week before you said you'd join. Now when Vexen says jump, you ask how high. Do you really have all the cards in your deck anymore?”

Luxord shrugged. “Does it matter? We're doing this for the good of the universe. Sacrifice is inevitable. To join a game, we have to have something to put into the pot.”

“Why can't we just wait things out? We still don't have a way to kill the heartless and sooner or later we're going to end up like the last XII and get ripped to itty bitty little pieces.” Demyx waved his hands. “I like being alive.”

“Even in a half life?”

“Half alive is better than all dead!”

Luxord chuckled. “You have a point. But,” and he waved to a passing Gambler, “shouldn't we do something so they can have more than a quarter life? We're the only ones who remain human enough to launch these plans.”

“My Dancers are happy listening to music and dancing. We don't need anything else,” Demyx said. He leaned in to Luxord. “If you ever decide you need a break, we've got a place for you.”

“Thank you,” Luxord said. “I'll keep it in mind.”

“It's nice to know there's one person with chill in this team,” Demyx said, and let Luxord open the doors to the Grey Room for him.

Zexion and Lexaeus sat on one dirty white couch with a box of materia in between them.  Occasionally one would hold two up to the light for comparison before putting one in the box and the other on his lap. A small pile of red materia was forming on Zexion's lap.  
  
Meanwhile, two more Nobodies conversed by the window, faces close together. Axel's shaggy red hair hid his face as he leaned over Saix, though the long arm over the other's shoulder made his intent clear. For once, Saix's X scarred face wasn't knotted with disdain.

“Oh, good. If Saix is getting laid tonight, he won't chew me out before we leave,” Demyx whispered. "Maybe he can get Zexion to stop gnawing on me like a dog with a soup bone."  
  
“Lady Luck leaves if you talk about her,” Luxord whispered back. “Shh!”  
  
Zexion looked up. “You know we can all hear you, don't you?”  
  
Leaxeus looked up, his little eyes narrowing. Demyx turned and - “Run away!”  
  
"Return and explain yourself!” Lexaeus roared and chased after him.  
  
Axel doubled over with laughter and Saix grinned as Zexion groaned and went back to stacking materia.

 

* * *

 

“So your co-workers just haul off and attack each other if someone says the wrong thing?” Facilier asked.

Luxord shook his head. “Lexaeus is Zexion's step-father. He takes his son's safety and reputation rather seriously. You just have to mind your words."

“So say one wrong thing about the grumpy teenager and get smacked? I'm suddenly having second thoughts about working for your Organization.” A few feathery flames whipped out of the materia in Facilier's hands.

“No, I mean – it's not as big a problem as I've made it sound, I assure you! Demyx got a few bruises and apologized to Zexion and that was all.”

“You know, for a bunch of people with no souls, it seems like this Lexaeus has quite the temper."

Luxord sighed and pulled out a deck of cards to shuffle as he chose his words. A defense mechanism, Facilier suspected. Cards were comforting, and Luxord could transform them into weapons at a moment's notice. “I realize this sounds very bleak to you, but as Nobodies, our bodies can withstand damage far beyond that of humans. And sometimes we act in ways that humans would find inappropriate because we can survive more. Not that it's necessarily good, but it's what is done."

“You said that I wouldn't be in as much danger if I joined you, but it's sure not sounding like it,” Facilier said. And that was not the quality of logic he expected from Luxord, he did not say.

“It – you won't be in constant danger,” Luxord said weakly. “Lexaeus will yield to the Superior and Saix if called upon. He's not a threat - I'd trust him with my life."

“If you insist,” Facilier said. The flames shrank. “Saix must be a powerful old man if he can keep Lexaeus at bay - "

“He's twenty four,” Luxord said.

“He what.”

“Saix is twenty four years old.”

Facilier wet his lips. “He's younger than I am.”

“Yes he is.”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-one. The Superior is probably no less than twenty eight but could be as much as forty, before you ask, and Lexaeus is...forty-three now, I believe.”

“Lord help you,” Facilier muttered. His materia's flame petered out. “How old is Zexion, then?”

“He turns eighteen this November.”

“Lord help you,” Facilier said again as memory sparked from weeks back. “Wait a minute. That one time when you said you babysat him – ”

“Was literal. He was adopted, so no diapers were involved, but I can say on full authority that he still wet the bed when he was five.”

“It's no wonder your Organization's a mess. You're run by children,” Facilier said. “And if he's your - and Lexaeus is – then – how many people in this group are you related to?”

Luxord's expression flattened, and he lifted a fist over an open hand.

“You're not going to tell me unless I beat you at rock paper scissors,” Facilier said, incredulous.

A nod. “And every time you lose, you have to tell me something. Same rules as before.”

Facilier nodded and raised his hands. “Rock paper scissors - !”

Facilier threw scissors. Luxord threw rock. Luxord gently tapped Facilier's knuckles and asked, “Why does your cousin-in-law Annette think the worst of you?”

Facilier blanched. “I won't play any more if you don't make me answer that question.”

“Deal.” Luxord said. Facilier looked away. After a moment, Luxord sat down across from him and offered another materia. “Here. This is Protect. It makes it more difficult for you to be harmed by physical dangers. I find it easier to cast when I'm feeling defensive and threatened.”

“Thanks,” Facilier muttered, and rolled his eyes at Luxord. Luxord smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited 3/14/16


	4. Day -127: Ice Baby, Baby

Xemnas preferred to sit high, high in his chair when an Organization member gave a report. In the towering white-walled room Where Nothing Gathers, Saix sat at one side, gold eyes gleaming, and Zexion sat at the other, gaze like a knife. They towered over Luxord as he straightened the print outs he had brought to confirm his report; Luxord was glad he'd spent a few minutes rehearsing beforehand.

“Demyx and I found omens that the Seeker of Darkness's ship has resurfaced during our bimonthly scrying session yesterday. Further scrying indicates it's in the Star Ocean territory of the Silk Sea. Xigbar's scout ships have confirmed that Heartless near the region are starting to flock towards Star Ocean, which is a sign of the Seeker, although we have no confirmed sightings of the ship itself.” Luxord took a moment to wet his mouth. “Maleficent's lust for heartless to control grows ever greater, and the leading edge of her forces is in Star Ocean. Given that the Seeker of Darkness and it's ship are the largest known Heartless in this universe, I would like the Superior to reconsider his ban on hunting it. If Maleficent captured and tamed it, it could give her an ace up her sleeve and allow her to take worlds before we can harvest them.”

Xemnas chuckled, his silver bangs falling over his dark, handsome face. “No one has survived facing the Seeker of Darkness. You know that well enough.”

Luxord nodded, a hand unconsciously going to his stomach.

“Either Maleficent will fight the Seeker and be destroyed, which will be in our favor, or the Seeker will feed a world to the heartless, which we can then harvest, and that will also be in our favor. There is no point in hunting the Seeker,” Xemnas intoned.

“You ask this every time the Seeker appears,” Zexion said. “Your attempts to hide your desire for revenge are as badly made as your excuses for it.”

Luxord let the insult wash over him. If Zexion wanted to spend his teenage years being the most annoying creature within a six world radius, it wasn't Luxord's place to stop him. “My apologies, Superior. I have records of the data we've collected on the Seeker so far so you can prepare next month's plans.”

“Excellent. I'll take a copy, and you should take one down to Vexen's lab,” Zexion said. He disappeared in a puff of dark energy and reappeared in front of Luxord, putting his hand out. Luxord handed him files, then opened his own portal of dark energy and inclined his head. “Anything else?”

“You're dismissed,” Xemnas said.

Luxord bowed to him, then turned and opened his own puffy portal of dark energy and stepped in. Three steps in, and he was in a dark cavern only lighted by seams of phosphorescent blue crystal in black stone. Another three steps, and he was outside of the portal's other end, several dozen floors down from Where Nothing Gathers and just outside Vexen's lab.

He didn't bother to knock. Politeness would be wasted here; the labs were huge and Vexen's attention span was as focused and one dimensional as a laser, which meant that a quiet knock would be unheard or ignored. Luxord just opened the door and slipped in.

One of Vexen's Paladins, tall Nobodies whose heads and limbs stuck out of a huge shell like giant blue bipedal turtles, handed Luxord safety goggles and pointed. _Our lord is in the Testing Chamber. Do not disturb him._

“The Superior sent me,” Luxord said as he slipped on the goggles. “Will he be out soon?”

The Paladin murmured to another one carrying a tray full of flasks, then nodded. _We believe so. Please wait._

So Luxord waited.

And waited.

And waited.

“It's been half an hour. I have other duties,” Luxord said.

_Please be patient. We're sure he'll be out soon._

“I'm going to find him,” Luxord said, and stood. The Paladins tried to block his path to the Testing Labs, but Luxord danced through them like wind through rocks, then opened the door and spun inside.

It was dark and cool in the Testing Labs. Fans whirred and water glubbed. Desks and walls alike were covered in paper: in stacks and in post it notes, taped up or tied together, reams and sheafs and oceans of paper. Luxord had to watch his step so as to not trod on it.

But one dark wall was blank save for one paper. A photo. Luxord stepped closer and squinted at it in the dim light; what was so important that it was the only paper on the wall?

It was an old family photo. There was Vexen, young and smiling with his arms around Luxord's Father. There was Zexion, no more than six, peeking out from behind Vexen's labcoat. There was Luxord, with his hair still grown long and his beard still scraggly, at his father's other side; the two of them could have been twins save for his father's wrinkles.

There was Lexaus next to them, arms full with a squirming two year old. She had Lexaeus's red hair and Even's brilliant eyes and one chubby hand reached toward the camera. She'd been circled in silver ink.

Barely any photos of the family had survived the Heartless. This one was missing his older brother, his brother's betrothed, and Gran, but it was more complete than any Luxord had seen. The first one he'd seen of his sister in years.

Luxord put his finger on her tiny hand and murmured her name.

A white hand slammed against the other side, and bubbles flurried.

Luxord shot back. It wasn't a wall the photo was taped to but a tank full of dark and cloudy water; now that his eyes were adjusting to the dark, Luxord could see the outline of – _something_ inside it. Not human, and not a Nobody – what was it?

“No. X, you better have a good reason for being in here!”

Luxord jumped as Vexen appeared from behind the corner and rammed into him like the world's loudest goat. He couldn't get a word out as Vexen screamed at him.

“This is a restricted area! You aren't supposed to be here – my experiments are light sensitive and you opened the door, I can't believe you would risk my science for whatever insignificant errand you were sent here on! I thought I raised you to know better than this!”

Vexen drove forward and Luxord backed away, away, and opened the door to the main lab behind him. “Vexen, the Seeker's been sighted and - “

Vexen snatched the files from Luxord's arms. “I'll deal with these later! Get out get out _get out_!” And with that, he shoved Luxord out of the Testing Labs and slammed the door after him.

* * *

 

When Luxord finished speaking, he sagged in Facilier's kitchen chair and put a hand on his face. Facilier hadn't thought it was possible for the man to look tired, and yet here he sat looking as though the life had drained out of him. For once, he wasn't the brightest point in Facilier's kitchen.

How did Facilier even begin to parse all of this?

“You're saying your boss sits in a chair so tall he has to teleport into it?”

That surprised a laugh out of Luxord. “ _That's_ the most striking thing in my story? Not the labs?”

“You work for an Organization that hunts soul eating monsters and travels around space. Frankenstein nonsense seems right up your group's alley.” Facilier coughed. “No offense.”

“None taken. I just – I cannot fathom why he would do such a thing. It's impossible to bring back the dead. Even if he was successful in growing some kind of body, there's no way to create a heart, much less bring one back that's been lost to death or the heartless. It'd be an empty shell. And we don't even have any hair or blood or something from Kairi that'd let Vexen clone her.”

Facilier nodded. You needed a little bit of someone's body to work strong magic on them, in his experience. Doing something as powerful as regrowing someone's body would definitely need something like that.

“Her name's Kairi?”

That made Luxord look up, then slump more. He hadn't realized he'd let that slip. For a 'being with no emotions', he certainly didn't act like it.

“Yes. Kairi. Kai written with the character for ocean and Ri with the character for the jasmine flower, but we'd joke that if you wrote it another way, it looks like the word for 'nautical mile,'” Luxord mumbled.

“Complicated way of writing,” Facilier said. “So. Your – step father?”

“My father's third spouse. A political match, but they had affection for each other in the beginning. Things had cooled by the time the Heartless came – hence why Vexen had a child with another man.”

Facilier opened his mouth, then closed it. Space had King Mickey Mouse, demons everywhere, literal magic, and no white people. There was probably a way for men to have children together, and it probably was as fit for polite company as how a man and a woman had children together, so he wasn't going to ask. Instead:

“You've talked about Lexaeus before. He's like your uncle?”

“Close enough. His mother was our Gran.” Luxord wiped his face. “I shouldn't be telling you this.”

“Why not? You had no problem complaining about Vexen a few weeks ago.”

“That was work. This is family. Or what passes for it these days.”

“You've got me there.” Facilier stood and stretched. “I'll make some chicory coffee. It's not as good as what's in a restaurant, but you don't look like you want to leave the house. Maybe that'll help.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Luxord murmured.

Below, the bell for the shop opened. Facilier spun to the stairs to the shop. “I'll be back up in a couple minutes, alright? You stay right there.”

Luxord nodded, and Facilier hopped town the steps with cane in hand.

In his shop, Facilier's cousin Melvin was pacing back and forth. His heavily slicked and combed hair was starting to come free in tight curls, and his tweed jacket was mis-buttoned. When Melvin saw Facilier come off the stairs, he ran to him. “Lazare!”

“Melvin, what's the fuss?”

“It's Annette! The baby – the baby's coming!” Facilier felt his throat turn to ice. “The head's already out and there's blood and - ”

“Stay there.” Facilier hopped to his desk and got out a small bag he used when he had to attend a birth. “I'm not a proper midwife, Melvin. People usually only call me if something goes wrong. I don't know how to deal with a normal birth.”

“You're the first person I could think of. It's a two hour trip to get Mama Odie and I couldn't think of anyone else who could do it and, and I know you and Annette don't get along, but,” Melvin said, and Facilier interrupted him.

“How Annette and I feel about each other doesn't matter.” He patted his bag. “I'm not so bad I'd make her have the baby on her own.”

Melvin sucked in breath and hugged Facilier, almost knocking him off his feet. Facilier wobbled and hugged him back.

He almost didn't notice Luxord come down the stairs and make a beeline for the door. “Where are you going?”

“His vehicle is called a car, isn't it?” Luxord said. “I'm going to the car.”

“What – you are not coming.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Luxord, you don't know how childbirth works.”

“I'm skilled in other healing arts. If you deal with the baby, I can help with the aftermath of the birth.”

Oh. The aftermath of pregnancy could be pretty bad – even a quick and easy birth left a mother drained for days if not weeks afterwards as the body adjusted to not having a baby. Given the speed and ease of Luxord's healing magic -

“Fine, but don't get in my way.”

“Of course,” Luxord said, and opened the door. “Let's make haste.”

“Thank you,” Melvin said, “thank you. But you don't need to get in the car. I took Boni to a friend's house and brought Annette here.”

Facilier blinked. Exhaled. “Alright. That makes things simpler. We'll need to bring her into the shop”

Melvin pulled the two of them out to the car. Annette sat in the back seat. Her face was ashen, and her legs trembled with effort; her dress and the towels under her body had soaked through with amniotic fluid.

“He's willing to do it,” Melvin said.

“Good.” Annette looked down. “I don't know if I can walk.”

Luxord poked his head over Melvin's shoulder. “You won't have to. I can carry you inside if you allow me to.”

“Go ahead.”

Luxord scooped her into a bridal carry and carefully took her to the house. Melvin and Facilier followed close behind. He didn't falter as he maneuvered them through the door and up the stairs, up to Facilier's bed.

Facilier laid towels upon towels on his bed. “Luxord, put her down. I'll take things from here. Get the painkillers off the cabinet.”

“On it.”

“What can I do?” Melvin asked.

“Get Annette some water.”

Facilier went to scrub his hands clean. “Annette, you ready?”

“What do you think, Lazare? That I'm going to walk off to have a picnic? This isn't my first time.” She grinned fiercely through the sweat drenching her face.

“Good. Let's bring that child into this world,” Facilier said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to Chuplaywithfire for looking this over! 
> 
> HELLO XION! 
> 
> and meanwhile, luxord's stepdads are transsss innnnn spaaaaace


	5. Day -127: Faith Mine

“The baby's almost out,” Facilier said. “Annette, you're doing just fine. Luxord, get over here.”

Luxord's three steps to the bed felt like they took three years. “Yes?”

“That's a lot of blood.”

“Babies tend to do that,” Annette said, but her face was growing paler by the second.

“Too much blood,” Luxord murmured. “I understand what you're saying. But – I can't outright heal her with a healing spell.”

“Why not?”

“It reverts the body back to the 'standard' state, which is not what we want during a birth. The baby wouldn't be able to, ah, squeeze through the newly shrunken hole.” Luxord stripped off his gloves. His nails were painted silver. “But there's something I can do until you get the child out.”

“Good. Do it.”

Luxord nodded, then went to the head of the bed, above Annette, and placed his hands around her head. “This is a regeneration spell. Please remain calm.”

“Of course he's another magician, not a good Catholic boy,” Annette breathed. She fixed Luxord with a glare. “Do it. I don't plan to die today.”

“That's what I wanted to hear.” Luxord grinned. “Fithos lusec wecos vinosec,” he began, and went into a smooth Latin chant that Facilier could only understand fragments of.

Annette's ragged breathing eased as Luxord chanted; the baby came out hearty and whole into Facilier's hands; the bleeding slowed. It could pass for a miracle.

Minutes – eons – passed. Until the baby was breathing safely in Facilier's arms. He carefully dried the baby without breaking the umbilical cord, then wrapped them in a blanket and put them on Annette's chest. Annette smiled and patted her child's head. The color was returning to her cheeks. Facilier sank to his knees in relief.

Luxord kept up the healing chant until the placenta came out and the bleeding stopped. The baby suckled a first meal, then fell asleep with Annette. Melvin sat next to his wife and admired his new child.

“Curaga,” Luxord finished, and green light haloed around Annette. He hopped off the bed and walked to Facilier's side. “Can you stand?”

“I don't think so.”

Luxord sat next to him. His face was covered in cold sweat. “Then I'll join you.”

“Good.” Facilier leaned on Luxord. “Felt like my heart was going to bust out of my body for a few minutes there.”

“But it didn't, and they both seem healthy,” Luxord said.

“Got to call a real midwife to finish things,” Facilier said. “I don't know how to take care of newborns.”

“We can send Melvin.”

“That's a good idea. Melvin, go get a real midwife.”

“What? Why me?”

“Because you're the only person not covered in baby slime,” Facilier said. “Now go!”

Melvin went.

“...you are covered in baby slime. We should get you cleaned up,” Luxord said. He stood and picked up Facilier bridal style. “I'll help wash your sheets later.”

“Thank you. This is going to take forever to clean up,” Facilier muttered. “How about you? Any baby slime?”

“Very little. This leather is easy to clean, thankfully. It's waterproof and magic resistant. I'll just need to rinse it off.”

“Convenient. That why it smells like blood?”

“The inside isn't waterproof,” Luxord said defensively.

“That makes it _so_ much better,” Facilier laughed.

Luxord dumped Facilier in his bathtub with a huff, then went to the sink and rinsed off his sleeves. Facilier looked down at his coat and groaned; all of his clothing had soaked through enough that he'd have to take a shower to get all the baby slime off. He summoned his Shadow, and xe started prying his soggy coat off his body. His sleeves clung to his wrist bones.

“Luxord, get out. I need to shower.”

“Can you stand enough to turn the water on?”

Facilier gestured, and Shadow threw Facilier's hat at Luxord. “I've got Shadow to help. Go watch the baby!”

“Going, going.”

Once he'd striped down to his pants, Facilier realized he did have a problem. No, he didn't need Luxord's help to shower. But he'd forgotten a very important thing: a change of clothes. “Luxord!”

Luxord poked his head into the bathroom. “What?”

“Get me some new clothes!”

“On it, boss!” He winked, and then he was gone. He returned in a moment with fresh clothing and some towels, then disappeared back out. Facilier heard him singing through the walls. "Baby thine, don't you cry. Baby thine, dry your eyes. Rest your head on mother's heart, never to part, baby of thine...."

 _It's a good thing he came here_ , Shadow said. _Perhaps you should keep him in the shower next time._

“Oh, hush,” Facilier said, but he kept smiling.

* * *

 

“The baby's as healthy as any I've ever seen,” said the midwife. “Doctor Facilier did a good job with the delivery.”

“Thank you,” Facilier said.

“Thank goodness,” Annette said. She cradled her sleeping child tenderly.

“And as for you, Miss Annette," the midwife continued, "if I hadn't seen you last week at church, I'd say you hadn't given birth in years. There's none of the tearing or bruising that usually happens during childbirth.”

Annette's eyes flicked to Luxord, then back to the midwife. Luxord smiled guilelessly and shook his sleeve to cover his materia bracelet.

“It felt like an easy birth,” Annette said. “Or maybe I'm just lucky.”

The midwife squinted at Annette, then Facilier, then shrugged. “Luck's good.” More squinting at Facilier. “I can write up the birth certificate and take it in for you folks. What's the baby's name?”

Annette smiled. “Faith Adelaide Facilier.”

Facilier felt his head turn to ice for a moment. “Annette, that's my mother's name. You can't name your child that,” he said, and his throat felt like it was coated in sandpaper.

“Your mother was a fine woman, and no one else in the family has taken the name.” Annette petted the baby's head serenely, as if she hadn't just stolen the only thing he had left of his mother. “And since you helped in the birth, it should be fine, shouldn't it?”

“I – look, you can't just name the baby that without asking me,” Facilier said. “That's – that's Mama's name. You can't have it.”

“Why not?” Annette sat up a little more, blinking, trying to get a good look at him. She looked vulnerable with her hair down for once; it wasn't fair. She was attacking him, she was trying to steal Mama _again_ , just like the rest of the family, and she looked like an angel on a postcard. “You're not going to have children. ”

“That's not the point,” Facilier said hoarsely. “You don't have a right to my mother's name.”

Her brow wrinkled. “And you do?”

Melvin and the midwife whispered to each other. Background noise. The rest of the world was falling away from the two of them. Luxord said something, but it only registered as sound, not words. It felt like no one else was in the room. Like Facilier was standing on a high cliff and about to fall.

“She's my mother. What claim – what makes you think that – you deserve to take her name for yourself?”

“Aunt Adelaide's been dead for five years. I know you were close to her, but so were other people. You have to stop acting like you have sole claim over her life. You're not the only one who misses her,” Annette said.

Facilier's voice cracked. “Yes, I AM!”

Melvin, Luxord and the midwife gasped. The baby started crying.

Facilier's grip tightened on his cane as he drew himself up to his full height. He could hear the ghostly laughter of his Friends echoing in his mind; he could hear his own heart hammering. He opened his mouth to scream.

Luxord stepped in front of him. “What about, instead of Adelaide, you use Kairi?”

The laughter cut short with a needle scratch.

“What kind of name is Kairi?” Annette asked.

“My sister's name,” Luxord said. “I helped with the birthing. Instead of honoring Facilier, you could honor me by using that name.”

Melvin looked at Annette and mouthed something. They had a conversation through their faces that Facilier couldn't read, and the midwife said something unimportant. Facilier took a deep breath, trying to focus enough to register words.

“What's significant about that name?” Annette asked.

“I suggest this because my sister's been dead for ten years and it would be nice if there was a Kairi alive somewhere,” Luxord said.

“Oh,” said Annette.

Facilier sucked in a deep breath. On the one hand, Luxord was trying to defuse the situation. He had offered up information that only a shock could crack out of him otherwise to try and help. He was trying to help, and Annette and Melvin were taking the bait.

On the other hand. “Finish your business,” Facilier said. “Then get out of my house. All of you. All of you!”

Luxord stiffened. Annette wrapped her arms around the baby, eyes daring. “Fine.”

* * *

 

Luxord clomped back up the stairs to where Facilier was sagging in his chair. “I finished packing their things and they've all left.”

“Good,” Facilier said.

Luxord nodded and then opened up the trap door to the roof. “What the hell are you doing?” Facilier asked.

“You said everyone had to leave,” Luxord said. His face was too blank, too still. “I go by the roof, remember?”

“I didn't mean you,” Facilier said. He stood, leaning heavily on his cane, and grabbed Luxord's hand. “Don't go.”

“Then I won't.”

Facilier pulled Luxord forward and hugged him tightly. Luxord froze, startled, then melted to hug him back.

Luxord's coat really did smell like blood. But his embrace was warm and when Facilier's leg faltered, Luxord lowered them both to the ground without breaking contact. And when angry, hot tears ran down Facilier's face, Luxord did not comment. He simply held him closer.


	6. Four of Swords I

Luxord cleaned the sheets. Luxord scrubbed the floor. Luxord wrapped Facilier in a Fire-warmed blanket.

Luxord stared at a huge mug of magically heated water in confusion.

“You don't know how coffee works?” Facilier asked. Shadow giggled silently. Xe hadn't strayed from Facilier's side for the entire night, letting him pet xir ephemeral sides. He supposed this was why some people enjoyed the devils that were dogs -though Shadow was twice as soft as one of those hellbeasts.

“There's a machine at work you put grounds and water in and coffee comes out. I've never made it by hand before,” Luxord said.

“You're useless,” Facilier said fondly. He stood up, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a royal robe, and showed Luxord how to do to it.

Luxord poured them two cups and settled them down on the floor while Shadow curled at Facilier's feet like a lanky cat.

Facilier sipped.

Luxord sipped.

“Thank you,” Facilier said. He leaned on Luxord's shoulder. His leather was cold and dry.

“For what?”

“For stepping in. It was a damn fool idea and none of your business, but you meant well. And Kairi's a nice name.”

“It is,” Luxord said.

Luxord sipped.

Facilier sipped.

“You didn't have to mention her,” Facilier said. “You could have used a fake name. You didn't have to use something so private.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

Luxord sipped.

Facilier did not.

“You hold your cards close to the chest. You don't talk about this kind of thing without reason,” Facilier said. “What kind of gambler throws away a straight flush on a stupid situation like that?”

Luxord looked away.

“You're an idiot,” Facilier said. He flicked Luxord's arm. “You probably already figured it out, but Adelaide was my mother.”

Luxord's gaze snapped back to Facilier.

“She was a Voudou priestess who worked with the Baron, like I do. She delivered every baby and delivered last rites to every person in the neighborhood up until she died. There was an epidemic; everyone and their mother got the Spanish flu, so she nursed them all, saved as many as she could until she got it herself.” Facilier's hand shook as he put down his coffee cup. “Since I was already dead, I couldn't get sick. I took care of her until the end.”

“Like a good son should,” Luxord said. “On my world, there is this virtue – I do not know how to translate it properly. Loyalty to the parents. Honor thy mother and father, maybe.” He snorted. “I wasn't very good at it in the end. Were you the only one who took care of your mother?”

“More or less. I was already in debt to those masks, then,” Facilier said. His fingers curled in the fang necklace's chain. “Mama moved us away from where we'd lived before so no one would ask questions. She was helping me keep up with them. She couldn't stand to see me in danger, even with – what I had done. And since she was around _me_ , no one else wanted to come close. When she died, the masks demanded more from me. I had to keep them fed and prepare for the funeral and keep up with the last of her patients. I was so busy that Annette and Granny Odie took over preparing the funeral service. I almost missed the funeral and I showed up looking like a drunk. All the good Catholics on Mama's side of the family got to gloat that Mama was one of them, and they'd provided a service her no good son couldn't give. And Granny Odie got one more confirmation that I was no good.”

“The final nail in your coffin.”

“Adelaide's boy dropped out of school and went around doing nothing, barely helped her, got drunk at her funeral. Told his granny he'd rather worship demons than go to church. He's no good,” Facilier muttered. “That boy didn't deserve such a good mother.”

Luxord shook his head. “You deserved a good mother. She'd be happy you're still surviving with her gone. Why did you fight with your grandmother?”

“What – oh, my granny?” Facilier huffed. “Well, she knew someone had to let the masks out. They were all stuck inside this huge poisonous tree, and they couldn't free themselves without help. If I hadn't said I'd done it, she'd have scoured the entire neighborhood until someone 'fessed up to it. I thought it'd be better to have it out in tn the open so there wouldn't be fighting.”

“Surprisingly altruistic for a demon worshiper.”

“First of all, I don't worship them. I worship Bonye. I'm just stuck with them until I can pay off my debt. Second, just because I'm a dirty damned demon summoner doesn't mean I'm going to throw someone else under the bus.”

“Very honorable. It's important to maintain the bonds of trust within a community, even if that means someone has to become the scapegoat.”

“I woke them up. I get the consequences. It's better than dying, anyway.”

Luxord nodded and wrapped his arm around Facilier. Facilier sucked in breath, then wrapped his arms around Luxord's shoulders. “Cheeky.”

“Mmm. We undead need to have solidarity.”

“You are very solid. How easily can you snap a man's arm in half?” He patted Luxord's huge bicep.

“Depends on the man. On this world, I could snap nine arms out of ten, but I generally prefer using magic. Fire is very efficient.” Luxord gestured delicately.

“Is fire your specialty?

Luxord laughed. “Oh, no! You can tell when someone's a fire specialist. They're usually fiery types, hotheads, sunny – it's a stereotype for a reason. Ice mages are cold, lightning mages are,” grimace, “Larxene, and so on. Not always, but enough are.”

“So you are, let me guess - you're a gambler, you're very easy going and you're always talking about how the cards will pan out. You specialize in luck.”

“Very close. Let me show you.” Luxord drank his coffee, then threw the cup in the air. “Stop!”

It froze mid spin, his last few droplets of coffee frozen falling to the floor.

“Time,” Facilier said. “You're a time mage?”

“Indeed.” Luxord hopped to his feet and reached his hands out. Like magic (hah) the cup started to move again and fell into his hands. “The flow of time cannot be reversed, but it can be paused, slowed or sped up.”

“You're not touching your materia bracer.”

“I don't need materia to cast this. I've learned these spells by heart.” Luxord tossed the cup up. “Slow!” It fell back down as if falling through water, sluggish, until it landed in his hand. “Haste!” The cup flew up at normal speed but Luxord's hands moved in black blurs around it. Luxord spun and danced at double time until the spell wore off, and he barely caught the cup when it fell.

Then he bowed. Facilier clapped. “Well done, Monsuir Time!”

“Thank you, lovely audience!” Luxord filled his cup with more coffee and sat back down next to Facilier. “Time mages are calculating and make plans with careful timing, willing to spend years building to an outcome. However, sometimes they lose track of the present with their eye on the future and take obscene risks to keep the plan on track. They choose with their heads rather than their hearts. They tend to leave their academic towers to become politically active in their later years, as they desire to guide and serve the people within time as well as time itself.”

“Sounds like you.” A nudge closer, and Luxord wrapped his arm around Facilier again. “Don't get used to this,” Facilier said. “I'm not a cuddler.”

“Of course not,” Luxord purred. “You're merely keeping me company right now.”

“That's right,” Facilier said.

And they held each other until they fell asleep.

* * *

 

“I probably won't be here next week. If the Seeker of Darkness destroys a world, we'll all be on salvage duty.” Luxord finished making the sandwich and placed the plate with it on the floor next to Facilier.

Facilier took a bite. “'s good. If this Seeker is so strong, why doesn't your boss listen to you and destroy it? It's a threat, isn't it?”

“You would think, but the Superior says it's a waste of time.” Luxord scowled as he put food away. “And we can use the remains of destroyed worlds to make ships and strengthen our world. The Superior says that all will be restored when Kingdom Hearts is created, and that the Seeker's destruction is so quick as to be a mercy to victims.”

“Before, you said that Zexion said you wanted revenge. What would you want revenge for?”

“A number of things. The Seeker attacked the world the survivors of Radiant Garden had settled on, and it had to be stalled so the world could evacuate before it's ship landed.” Luxord smiled grimly as his hand fluttered to his stomach.“They say that the quickest way to someone's heart is through their stomach. The key is to go from there up and into the ribcage.”

Facilier winced. “That'd do it.”

“My personal feelings don't factor into wanting it dead. It's an uncontrolled variable,and it could hinder our operations. Maleficent and her armies can be negotiated or fought away. Refugees and kingdoms can be bought off. But the Heartless cannot be reasoned with, and the Seeker is erratic and unpredictable. I won't have it get in my way.”

“Logical,” Facilier said. “Doesn't sound like revenge to me.”

“Exactly! It's not.” Luxord peered out the window. “It's getting late. If I don't return soon, my supervisor will ask questions.”

“Then go,” Facilier said.

Luxord nodded, then took out a large bag of gemstones, tossed it from hand to hand, then reached into a pocket and added a couple more white gems. “This should do for today and for missing next week. See you in two weeks?”

“See you in two weeks,” Facilier agreed.

Luxord pulled open the ceiling trapdoor, pulled down the ladder and climbed up to the roof, closing it off after him. Facilier sighed happily and upended the bag into his lap.

Moonstones. Topazes. A tiny emerald. And two diamonds the size of the first joint of his pointer finger.

Facilier whooped and flopped onto his back. “I'm rich! I'm going to eat every day this week!”

His shadow wiggled out from under him. _But you already do?_

“Yes, but now I can keep on doing it! Look at these diamonds! I can afford to buy more painkillers! I can afford to keep the lights on at night!” He laughed. “I'm rich!”

 _You are_ , Shadow said. _Have you seen the cant of the shadows? If you do not sleep soon, it won't be night but morning._

“Right, right, fine. Let me eat.” Facilier groaned as he sat back up. “He made food, I should eat it.”

 _Yes,_ Shadow said. Xe made the plate spin as Facilier took another bite of his sandwich. _For a moment there, I thought you were going to tell him._

“Tell him wh – oh. No, no.” Facilier shook his head. “He's a well meaning idiot, but still an idiot. He'd tell someone and that would be the end of that.”

_I see._

“Don't sound so disappointed. I've kept this up for ten years. I can do it for thirty more if need be.” Facilier's teeth ripped through bread and meat. “I don't need my family's respect. I don't need their attempts to look good disguised as charity. All I need is money so I can take care of myself.

“Mama woke up those demons so I could live, so like hell am I letting her memory get ruined before I die.”


	7. Four of Swords II

Luxord returned to the Grey Room two hours past curfew. The sky was as black as it had been when he had left hours upon hours before; the only sign that Luxord had gone and returned was the dust of the dark world on his boots.

“I haven't seen you come in late in years, No. X,” Saix said from the couch, and marked off his checklist as Luxord marched past him. “Did you find success today?”

“Something like it.” Luxord said, and did not blanch at how hollow he sounded.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, Luxord fumbled his door open and collapsed onto the bed. “Damn the salvage,” he muttered. “Damn the curfews. I wasn't ready to go.”

He hadn't wanted to leave. He wanted to go back. He had to go back. The abyss in Luxord's chest had been filled for several hours with glorious emotion, searing anger and crushing despair and the glorious highs of joy. And there was a new child and a fight and -

This was beyond the simple enjoyment of sensation. He cared. When had he begun to care about Facilier more than as a recruit? The feeling of emptiness in his chest had returned threefold now that they were separated, as insistent as a dull knife inserted between the ribs.

After a few minutes of stewing on the closest a Nobody could get to misery, Luxord rolled onto his side and his hand hit paper. He flipped the note up and read it.

**Hey, lil X! Don't go talking about Papa's experiments, got it? There's no reason for anyone to worry your head about that, as if. I'll schedule you a day off if you don't fuck this up. - big bro II**

Luxord smiled, grabbed his own pen and paper and wrote a note of agreement to slip to Xigbar, No. II, later.

Two weeks. Salvage was coming and he could get a day off afterwards to go see Facilier. He was an idiot and a fool but his heart was addicting. He had to go see him.

He didn't plan to talk about it, anyway. Who'd believe him? Vexen was the type of person to do the whole mad science thing, and the Superior only cared what Vexen did when it didn't bring results.

But then. His older brother, No. II, who was always at the Superior's side. Who did everything the Superior ordered, who disappeared with the Superior for hours at a time, who could certainly pull strings if needed -

Perhaps there remained some semblance of his family within the Organization's hollow shells. Perhaps.

And if not, then Luxord would just join Facilier's instead.


	8. Day -122: April 29, 1923

Time passed quicker than Facilier thought it would. The money from Luxord's gems and the magic icebox Luxord had installed made affording and storing food easier, so he could eat more, so he had energy to make more medicines and tourist trash, which meant he could buy more which meant he could eat more which meant he had more energy -

Facilier bought himself a trashy novel about aliens and a cake, and savored the former while eating the latter. He made oxtail stew and fried bacon with collard greens and went to bed with a full stomach. He sold hand-sewn dolls to tourists as 'lucky charms' and if they all had gold thread hair and blue button eyes, it was a coincidence and not inspiration.

When Melvin drove up on Saturday night and invited Facilier over for dinner and time with his nieces, Facilier didn't slam the door in his face. He went. The car ride only made him sweat a little bit, and Annette let him hold the baby when they all finished dinner.

Now he sat in a rocking chair with Faith drooling on his shoulder. She still had the crumpled squash face of a newborn, but her skin had become a rich ochre and her breathing was steady. She was wrapped in green cloth, like some kind of wheezy zucchini.

“I don't think I've seen you smile this much ever,” Annette said. “Who'd have thought tossing you a baby would be what got you to stop being so cranky?”

“Shut up,” Facilier said fondly.

“Are you ever going to have kids?” Boni said.

Facilier laughed. “With who am I having kids? I'd need at least one other person to help in the process.”

Men can have kids in space, said a voice in the back of his head. Facilier squished it up.

“He's definitely in a good mood if he answered that,” Melvin whispered. “He might answer more.”

“If this turns into another conversation about when is cousin Lazare getting married, I'm leaving and taking Faith with me,” Facilier said.

“I don't think we need to have any more of those conversations,” Annette said.

“What, really?” Facilier tried not to grin wider. If Annette knew how much those annoyed him, she'd probably start having them again.

“You seem quite happy as you are,” Annette said. “Why keep bringing up something that you've gotten resolved?”

“That's right! I'm living alone and that's the way it's always going to be.”

“Except for when Luxord visits,” Melvin said.

“What does one of my customers have to do with my love life?”

Melvin and Annette looked at each other, then at him.

“No. No, both of you – it's not like that – don't you dare,” Facilier said. “Don't say it.”

“You're sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” Boni said.

Facilier groaned and rocked back in the rocking chair. “Do you have to bring this up here and now? In front of her? Are you going to lecture me next?”

“Why can't I know about it?” Boni said. “Luxord got you to go to church and this is the first time you've visited the house in years! This is great!”

“I – “ Facilier squawked, and the baby stirred. He lowered his voice and continued. “He wanted to go visit some churches as a tourist so I was checking them out, and I wanted to see my niece. It's got nothing to do with him.”

“You had Easter breakfast with us! You haven't done that since Auntie Adelaide died,” Melvin whispered back.

“You're smiling more,” Annette said. “You're happy.”

Because I can eat now, Facilier thought. He pays me enough that I can afford food and pain medication and I don't have to humiliate myself for it. Why didn't you ever notice what it was like for me before this?

But he didn't say that. The baby was drooling in sleep on his shoulder and Boni was smiling and, for once, Melvin and Annette were looking at him like he was a good person.

“I suppose he's made an impact,” Facilier said. “But it's not love. We're friends.”

And that was true, Facilier realized. Luxord wasn't just a customer anymore. When had that happened?

“He looks at you all lovey dovey,” Boni said.

“Because he's a sap,” Facilier said. “His family situation's tense so he likes getting away from them.”

“Is that so?” Annette said.

Oh hell, Facilier thought. Whatever he said next would be known across town in a week. He'd have to pick his words carefully.

“There was some kind of war where he was living ten years ago. He won't tell me if it was the Great War or something else, or where it was; getting personal information out of him's like pulling teeth. His family didn't all make it when their hometown got destroyed. He had a sister about Boni's age, that Kairi, who died. The rest of them who survived went a little weird after that, trying to make things like they were before.”

“So you're like his prince who sweeps him away from his family?” Boni asked.

More like he's the prince and I'm getting swept away, Facilier thought, and then he clamped down on that thought before it could go on getting ideas. “Something like that. He's rich, but he can't buy a new family. I guess sneaking into this one's the next best thing.”

“That's why he keeps on weaseling into services with us,” Annette said. “Makes sense.”

“He's not a weasel!”

Melvin said, “Probably some kind of dog, like a golden retriever - “

“He's not a dog either!”

“He's a cat who sits on your book and your shoulders and sleeps on your face and brings you dead mice because he wants attention,” Boni said.

“Thank you! Luxord,” Facilier said, “is a cat.”'

“One who desperately wants attention, hmm? A cat who is desperate; maybe you should ask,” Annette said, smirking.

“Ask wha – no. No! He's my best customer! What will I do if he decides he doesn't want to see me anymore?”

“What, does he not like men being together?”

Men are allowed to marry each other in space, Luxord had said weeks ago. And another time, he'd spoken of his father's third spouse, Kairi's father, and the fond relationship they'd had long ago.

“No, but...”

“And he likes you, doesn't he?”

“You can't just match-make me like one of the girls at your church, Annette. I don't need your help.”

“But - “

“We're having a real nice evening,” Facilier said, voice strained. “Can we keep it one?”

Annette opened her mouth, but Boni turned and squinted at her. She closed her lips into a thin line, and Melvin quickly changed the subject.

Facilier patted Faith Adelaide Kairi Facilier's back and closed his eyes. It was good enough for now.


	9. Four of Wands I

The problem was, though, that some ideas were like seeds; once planted, they grew.

Men could marry in space. Luxord's family had included two fathers and he didn't mind. Luxord had stubby, cold fingers that could break bones as easily as they could pull a body closer and wrap around them, engulfing, arms warming from radiant body heat, and his head fit into the notch made by Facilier's neck and shoulder.

No matter how much Facilier tried to stamp his treacherous thoughts out, they kept on popping back up like weeds. Sewing, and he'd think of of how the buttons of his tourist trash dolls were the wrong shade of blue for Luxord's eyes. Cooking shrimp and he'd imagine how Luxord could pop them into his mouth and melt at the saltysweet flavor. Making the bed and he'd remember how Luxord had made it for him two weeks before, when he was too tired to stand.

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

Facilier knew his odds; his hair looked like something died in it and he had a face like someone had stepped on it when he was three. He was bones all over and poor and crippled and a bunch of demons owned his soul. No one in their right mind would consider him, and he knew it, and everyone else knew it, and that's why the thought of falling in love had never ever crossed his mind.

Until now. Until he saw himself counting the days since the last time he'd seen Luxord.

It was almost a relief when he heard footsteps, went upstairs and found Luxord passed out on his bed in the middle of the afternoon. He could get his mind off the inevitable rejection he'd get once he asked, if he asked, and onto whatever the hell Luxord was doing before he stumbled in.

Luxord's boots, set neat at the foot of the bed, were leaking sand out of their zippers. His coat, hung haphazardly over a chair, was soaking wet and stank of salt. His footsteps were marked in wet circles on the floor. Luxord himself stank of fish and sweat from a good two feet.

“Remind me to shove you in the bath when you wake up,” Facilier muttered, and went to look at the boxes Luxord had stacked on his table.

Five boxes of brightly colored fish on ice went in the ice box, and another went to the kitchen counter for a gumbo. A sack full of yellow star shaped fruits were rinsed free of sand and set aside. Two barrels of oddly colored rice stayed right where they were on account of being heavy. Facilier picked up and studied a hand-sized purple stone, but couldn't fathom the use for it and put it back down. The box with a pair of stud earrings got to sit with it.

There weren't any customers around. Early May wasn't supposed to get so hot, but it was, and who wanted to be outside on a day like this?

Facilier pulled out butter and flour, okra, bell peppers and garlic and onion and celery.

His feelings were ridiculous, and so was the heat, but Luxord was Luxord. Whether he was just his best customer or something more – either way, the man would appreciate some dinner when he woke up, wouldn't he?

* * *

 

Luxord stirred a few hours later. The light through the window had dwindled enough that Facilier had turned on his electric lights. They turned Luxord and his flimsy white shirt gold and purple.

“You look like a bath'd make you more comfortable,” Facilier said. “Do you need something to drink?”

“Yes, and yes please,” Luxord murmured, rubbing sleep and sand from his face. “What smells so good?”

“I'm making gumbo. I don’t think I’ve taken you out to eat it yet.” Luxord shook his head and shuffled over to Facilier, his shoulder brushing against Facilier's arm. Facilier gulped and tried to keep his voice as cool as Luxord's skin through his shirt. “It'll be extra good with all the fresh ingredients you brought. Where'd you get all that? You smell like a fishing boat ran you over.”

“Something like that,” Luxord said. His fingers skittered on Facilier's kitchen counter. “The Seeker ate the heart of a world, as he does, so we did salvage before the world dissolved into darkness. It was called Destiny Islands; they were officially self-quarantined, but had a thriving business smuggling fish and papau fruits on the black market.”

He picked up a spoon, but Facilier plucked it out of his hand before it could get near the gumbo. “No sneaking a taste until supper. The fish I understand, and the fruits must be rare, but what's with the rock and the earrings?”

“Baby's first set of earrings are usually the responsibility of the godparents, but I thought it would be polite to bring some,” Luxord said. He picked up the spoon again and spun it in his fingers. “Two sets are better than one, yes?”

“Earrings are a baby gift on your world?”

“They can't be removed easily like a necklace or a ribbon, so their protective enchantments also stay on until the child is old enough to swap to a different pair.” Luxord tugged on one ear, which had two studs, a hoop and a strangely shaped silver earring in it. “I still have mine.”

A magical gift for his niece. A magical gift. For his niece. Precious keepsakes, and probably expensive, and protective magical jewelry for the newborn, that wasn't even a payment but a gift - !

It was a good thing his cheeks were so dark already because that meant Luxord was less likely to notice them heating up so. “What kind of salvage ends up with rice, fish and baptismal gifts?”

“Well, when a world loses its heart, it spends some time falling apart before it completely disintegrates. Some of its parts become gummi, which is the material spaceships are made of. We harvest the gummi and sell some of it, use the rest for our ships. Everyone's been devoured by the Heartless by the time we arrive, so it's not as if they'll notice if we harvest fields and borrow livestock while we're there as well.”

Facilier grimaced. “When you put it like that, it sounds like grave robbing.”

“It is rather morbid, I agree. If the Seeker could be killed and if the Superior would let us kill it, fewer worlds would fall. But what do I know about it?” Luxord smiled ruefully. “The more worlds that fall, the more supplies we have to create Kingdom Hearts, and the sooner all fallen worlds can be restored.”

“At least one of you's trying to do the right thing,” Facilier said. Luxord made a soft pleased noise and he leaned against Facilier for a few seconds. Facilier's hair stood on end and his skin felt like it was full of stars for a moment.

“I do try,” Luxord murmured. “I'm going to use your bath now, if you don't mind. May I borrow a shirt until I can get this one clean? I came straight here from salvage, and all I have is a change of pants.”

“Go ahead, the closet's over there,” Facilier said. “What was your hurry?”

“I have tomorrow off,” Luxord said. “Reward for good work. I wanted to make sure I was here before someone changed their mind.”

A day off. Luxord had a day off, and he'd gone straight to Facilier to spend it. He'd gone right to him. Luxord had his living family and the entire universe at his disposal and he'd gone to Facilier.

Stars flared under his skin.

Luxord went, and Facilier stared down into his pot of gumbo as if it could tell him what would happen next. Luxord was here and as affectionate as a cat, and Facilier was falling for it and it was stupid because he was imagining it all.

It was worse when Luxord came out of the bath. Facilier's shirts were fit for a tall and skinny man, so stocky, short Luxord was forced to wear one with only two bottom buttons buttoned, glistening chest bared and shirt straining to hold round his body. He smelled like Facilier's soap, like home, and Facilier did not dare look at his pants for the sake of his already overwhelmed imagination. When he came back over to Facilier's gumbo, he was close enough for Facilier to smell soap along with spice.

“When will it be ready?” Luxord asked. “It smells incredible.”

Facilier took a spoon and tasted. The savoryness of the sausage and the saltiness of the fish had melted into the earthy okra and the sweetness of the onions, garlic, bell peppers and celery; the dark roux he'd made as a base gave the gumbo a nutty aftertaste. The hot peppers he'd added made his tongue tingle.

“It's ready now,” Facilier said. “Sit down. I'll serve it up.”

Luxord sat; Facilier served two large bowls. Luxord clapped his hands together, “Thank goodness I can eat this food with you,” and then his utensils flashed.

A bite. A gasp. And then Luxord had his bowl to his mouth, his chopsticks tapping as he stuffed his mouth. Facilier grinned and then started his own bowl; Mama's recipe for gumbo was a success!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Four of Wands: excitement, freedom and celebration; the blossoming of a relationship or success from hard work.


	10. Four of Wands II

“Forgive me, Gran, for I have sinned,” Luxord said, and drank the last of the broth from his third serving.

“Sinned how so?” Facilier asked, rinsing out the pot.

“I've had a thought that I met someone who cooks better than she did.”

“Flatterer,” Facilier said, and it was as if his skin were stars again. Why did Luxord keep doing that to him?

“It's the truth,” Luxord said. He stood and helped Facilier with the dishes, and it was not fair how his chest and stomach peeked out of his shirt.

“Thanks,” Facilier said. “Do you – I mean, I don't have a couch you could really use. You can share the bed with me. Tonight. If you want.”

Luxord's body shivered like a plucked string. “It's not an inconvenience to you?”

“Never. Besides, it's hot tonight, and you're as cool as an ice cube. You'll keep the bed a good temperature.”

“Very practical,” Luxord said, and another shiver ran through his body. “I accept your proposal.”

Facilier relaxed like a balloon losing air. He'd said yes! It was was for a ridiculous thing, but he'd said yes!

* * *

 

Luxord was asleep the moment he hit the pillow, which left Facilier an eternity of minutes to fall asleep after him.

To watch his chest rise and fall.

To watch his lips part in slumber.

To let his lullaby be the rhythmic breathing of another.


	11. Four of Wands III

The same dream, again.

Rain in his eyes. The taste of blood. The roar of engines. Can't move for pain, can't scream for pain, nothing but gasping.

“Facilier.”

He doesn't want to die in the mud of the bayou. He doesn't want to die like this. He can hear them laughing. Their cars rumbling. Their dogs barking.

“Facilier?”

If he tries to raise himself, he can see the car his leg has been tied to. Will they do it again? Are they going to drag him down this road until he falls apart?

“Facilier, wake up.”

The car roars. They're laughing. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to die -

_“Lazare, wake up!”_

His eyes snapped open, and Facilier wheezed into his pillow as someone patted and rubbed his back. “Lazare, come on, it's 1923 in New Orleans years and it's the month of Sanaetsuki – of, of May, damn it, and we're in your house – ”

“Luxord,” Facilier said, and the world steadied around him. It was 1923, not 1914. He wasn't dying in a bayou; he was home. “Luxord, stop panicking. I'm awake.”

“Nobodies are incapable of feeling emotions such as panic!”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Facilier said, and flopped into a sitting position, leg aching. Luxord followed, his already pale face drained of blood. “How did you even know what was happening? Please don't tell me I scream in my sleep.”

“You don't – at least, not your mouth. Your heart was screaming,” Luxord said, and took Facilier's hand. “Creatures like me are sensitive to strong emotions. I could sense a nightmare.”

“Is there anything you can't do?” Facilier asked.

“Emote.”

“Shut up,” Facilier said fondly. “Can you get me some water? I don't think I'm going back to sleep after that dream.” His knee was pulsing and sparking like it had been freshly ripped out of it's socket.

“I understand,” Luxord said. He squeezed Facilier's hand and glided out of bed. He filled a glass with water, scooped up the purple rock and brought them both to Facilier. “Drink, then hold this. It'll help.”

“Sure,” Facilier said. He drained the glass, then held the rock in his hands. Cool, smooth, lighter than it looked and about as shiny as dirt.“Is it a materia or something?”

“A gummi, actually. Usually, this kind gets turned into spikes used for ramming enemy ships, but this one's too small for that. It drains away life energy and replenishes death energy, which makes it ideal as a weapon. I thought, if life energy can hurt someone, then maybe...”

“Maybe this can heal me where your magic can't,” Facilier finished. He put the stone on his knee and the pain started to fade away.

“It won't be able to fix anything that would need a doctor, but it can reduce pain and heal small injuries,” Luxord said.

“The pain is going away.” Facilier ran it down his calf and rubbed it on the arch of his foot, then slid it back up his leg. The pain wasn't gone – it was never gone – but the it had receded to a distant ache. “It's going _away_.”

“Then my theory was correct.” Luxord smiled and sat next to Facilier.

Theory. Luxord had thought this through. Luxord had hunted down a gift for him that he thought could heal him. Brought it special from his job for him.

Why was his heart pounding so much? Why was the way Luxord leaned in catching his attention? Why was Luxord's hand on his able to make his breath shudder? Why -

A tinny sound played. Facilier jumped, startled, and almost fell off the bed. Luxord's head snapped toward his coat, and he hopped to his feet and rushed over.

“What is it?” Facilier asked.

“Someone is calling me – I have a magic mirror for contacting my allies across worlds, but no one uses voice contact unless it's an emergency.” Luxord rifled through the coat pockets. “I need to know what's happening. Don't make any loud sounds or – talk or anything. They'll hear you.” He pulled out a rectangular mirror about the size of his hand and tapped at it's surface.

Three voices started talking at once – Luxord stammered in another language, and as he tried to get something heard through the torrent of voices, more joined in. Facilier couldn't tell one voice from another until one voice crescendoed above the rest:

“Kingdom Hearts!”

I know that word, Facilier thought, and gestured for Shadow to get some food from the ice box. Time for breakfast and a show.


	12. Day -111: Traverse Town

“Silence, Organization XIII! We have located a key to Kingdom Hearts!”

The babble dribbled to silence, and the Superior cleared his throat before continuing. “Report, No. II!”

“This is Xigbar, reporting in from Traverse Town! I was watching Maleficent's latest attack on Traverse Town when this kid showed up and tried to fight the Guard Armor leading her troops. I thought, no way this kid could put a dent on a 5-meter Heartless, as if, when he whipped out a keyblade and tore it to pieces!”

“So what Zexion was saying is true – we have found a keybearer,” Luxord said. “To think the Joker has finally shown up in the deck.”

“But that's not the only thing going on,” Xigbar said. “He's being escorted by a couple Disnets. I'd need to double check our dossier on Mickey's court, but I think they're his chief bodyguards.”

“Is that why it's taken so long for Mickey to respond to the Heartless incursion? He's been training a keybearer?” Luxord asked.

“I don't think so. The kid's human, and can't be more than 13. He fights like a novice, too. If my gut's right, he's from Destiny Islands – that place was a prime keybearer recruiting ground before it quarantined itself 80 years ago.”

Zexion said, “That must be why the Seeker went after those islands; he knew someone that could kill him was there. The boy must have only gained the blade a few weeks prior.”

“But how would it know?” Vexen snapped. “We don't have a way to detect keyblades, and we're on the cutting edge of heart-based technology!”

“The Heartless are drawn to the strongest of hearts. The Seeker must have sensed the potential of the child,” the Superior intoned. “Since it did not snuff the child out in time, the boy will inevitably seek revenge, and they will clash. If the boy wins, we shall collect the hearts the Seeker has eaten and use it to make Kingdom Hearts. And if not...”

“There is a good chance the keybearer will become a Nobody,” Luxord said, and pressed the scar on his stomach.

“And then we'll recruit him,” Saix said.

“With the keybearer, our power will blossom and grow,” Marluxia said.

“But there's still the matter of the Disnets. If Mickey and Minnie have finally taken action, we may have to beat their hand,” Luxord added.

The Superior intoned: “No. IX, report.”

“Demyx here! Ah, my scrying nets picked up a Disnet ship testing the defenses around Castle Oblivion's asteroid field. We don't know who's flying it yet, but if everyone thinks King Mickey would ditch his job to go butt heads with a bunch of Heartless and us - “

“He would,” Xigbar said. “Trust me on this.”

“How does he know where Castle Oblivion is? It's never been on a map,” Marluxia said.

“It matters not. If he survives the asteroids, we shall kill him where he lands,” the Superior intoned. “Lexaeus, Axel, Marluxia, Larxene: you are on Oblivion duty and are to kill the mouse if you see him.”

A chorus of yesses.

“Vexen, Zexion, Demyx, Luxord: you are on keybearer duty. Discern what worlds he will visit. If you can, find a Heartless in Castle Oblivion with a great deal of hearts held within and drop it in his path; the more Hearts he frees, the more we can use to create our Kingdom Hearts.”

“Of course, Superior,” Luxord replied along with the others.

“Xigbar, Xaldin, Saix: you will assist me with the Seeker and Maleficent's forces. If we use them well, we may be able to free Maleficent's grasp on Hollow Bastion – and perhaps it can become our Radiant Garden once more.”

Luxord's void of a heart, for a moment, was in his throat as the three chorused their affermatives. How long had it been since he had gone home? How long had it been since his homeworld had gone by Radiant Garden and not the tacky nickname Maleficent preferred?

“Check in with Saix for your new orders,” the Superior said. “Kingdom Hearts will soon be within our grasp!”

The Superior hit the end call line; after a moment, Saix texted Luxord with his new orders.

' **get 2 the castle by 1600 2day, ur scryin w me n 9 @ moonrise**.'

By 1600 – that gave him time to spend with Facilier, more than he'd expected from Saix.

So much for his day off, but...

“What's going on? You're grinning like the cat that ate the canary,” Facilier asked, his English full of round vowels and softened consonants. It was a friendly sounding language when Facilier spoke it.

Luxord let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and took a moment to shift languages. “There's a keybearer. The first one in ten years. He just killed the Heartless leading Maleficent's invasion of the refugee worlds. We have hope again.”

“I thought Nobodies couldn't feel emotions such as hope,” Facilier teased,

“Hope can be an intellectual state,” Luxord shot back, and looked around for the papau fruits. Once he had a stack on a plate, he carried them over to the bed and set the plate between the two of them.

“Ok, so that explains why people kept on talking about keys, but what about Mickey Mouse? I heard you mention him at least three times.”

“It's taken nine years, but it seems that he's finally responding to the Heartless crisis. Unfortunately, he seems to be poking at our high-security haunted house instead of actually responding to the problem, which means we'll have to make sure he doesn't break anything when he gets there.” Luxord pulled out one of his fighting decks, cards made of steel, and withdrew the Nine of Hearts, then took a star-shaped fruit and began slicing into the rind with it. “I hope he realizes we're not a threat he needs to respond to. The Seeker of Darkness has a little nest near that system that even we can't get into. Mickey's energy would be better spent trying to go there.”

“Why not just tell him that?”

Luxord huffed. “The undead are just as unpopular out there as they are on this world. I'd rather not take that chance.”

That wasn't the only reason. Mickey would recognize Luxord and his family right away, and they were all known quantities whose weaknesses and strengths as humans were well known. Having Mickey find out and tell people would be worse – and Mickey would have a location to give out, too. Better to just kill him and be done with it.

Besides, Mickey and Minnie Mouse did nothing while Radiant Garden and her neighbors were destroyed for nine years. Fuck them and fuck their happy marriage.

“So, what is that fruit? You never got around to explaining why you brought those.” Facilier scooted closer as Luxord freed a slice of papau from the peel; Facilier took it when Luxord offered.

“This is a papau. They're rare – the trees only grow in estuaries, and their seeds can only become fertile after being eaten by a bird. Worlds that can grow them often smuggle them out into space – they're supposed to be one of the most delightful fruits in existence.”

Facilier bit into it. “It's delicious,” he muttered, and took another bite. Luxord felt warmth flutter in his chest; was he imagining satisfaction from the way Facilier melted at the taste, or was it the echo of his heart? He didn't know. He didn't care.

“I'd never get to eat one of these otherwise, so I wanted to try one since I found some.” Luxord cut off his own papau slice around and bit into the soft fruit flesh. Sweetness and citrus flooded his mouth, and he leaned against Facilier with his eyes closed and savored it.

“So why's this so rare? You're rich, aren't you?”

“Yes, but that's not it. These are usually only given as engagement gifts, and that's not happening anytime soon.”

Facilier choked.

Luxord patted his back. “Did it go down the wrong way?”

“That – you – engagement gift?!”

“Yes. I am incompatible as a romantic partner, therefore no one will ever give me a papau, so I decided I should try one while I had the opportunity. I brought as many as I could find so we could share them – what's the point of having such a delicacy alone?”

Facilier wheezed while Luxord patted his back some more. “No – Luxord – why didn't you mention this before?” He cleared his throat. “Were you afraid that I wouldn't accept it if I knew?”

“No!” That wasn't it at all! Although, now that he thought on it, it could be considered rather forward, couldn't it? He had thought this wouldn't be an issue on this world where most forms of love were taboo, but – as someone off-planet, he wouldn't be considered someone inducted into that taboo. And although no one on this world seemed to understand personal space, there was a major promiscuity taboo - “I hadn't meant to offend you by implying such a thing! I thought that, given the taboo on love between men on this world, the thought wouldn't come up at all!”

Facilier squinted at Luxord for a long minute. “You're an idiot. Also, I'm not offended.”

“Good – wait, what?”

Instead of responding, Facilier took another papau and peeled it, taking one of the legs out and eating it.

“Facilier?”

“You don't get it, do you?” Facilier shook his head. “I guess you wouldn't. I'm not the kind of person someone'd want to woo. Who'd love the Shadow Man?”

“I have no doubt someone out there could. You're kind and intelligent, and you hold good conversation, and you're aesthetically pleasing.”

“What's aesthetic?”

“The beauty of an art piece, like a sculpture or a painting.” Like how Facilier's eyes were the color of the clouds at the end of sunset, or how the gap in his teeth made his smile as beautiful as kintsugi pottery – the stuff that was broken and put back together with gold-dust resin, where the break lines and history of the pot made the whole of it more beautiful.

Facilier harrumphed, rubbing his face. “I owe my soul to demons.”

“Lotuses only grow in stagnant pools, don't they? But people still travel to water to see them.”

“What kind of goofy saying is that?” Facilier muttered. “Why do you keep on coming to the water here? You brought all these things that'd never be sold; they're gifts, not payments. Why?”

Luxord took out a deck of cards and started shuffling. “Of the Organization's current high ranking members, half are related to me in some way. I am the least intelligent and most polite of the lot, and they know it, and they remind me of it every time I see them. I was never part of their little group before we became Nobodies, and they're not about to let me in now.”

He dealt out a flush of cards in a row: Ace of Hearts, Two of Clubs, Three of Spades, Four of Clubs, Five of Diamonds, Six of Clubs, then tossed them to the ground.

“Then there's Larxene and Marluxia. I could spend time with them, or I could shove my head into a Heartless's mouth and let it chew on me to get the same end result in less time.”

The Jack and Queen of Hearts were tossed to the floor.

“Demyx is nice enough, but he'd kick me into a Behemoth's mouth if it meant he could get the day off. Fickle friends aren't friends at all.”

The Nine of Hearts fell to the ground.

“Saix is my boss. He's always working. I don't bother him and he doesn't bother me. We understand that we don't want someone else's nose in our business. He may not like me (or anyone) much, but he doesn't pretend to.”

The Seven of Spades.

“Axel fights. He fights Heartless, he fights people the Superior doesn't like, he'll fight himself if he's ordered to. When he's off duty, he tries to goad Saix into fighting so they can do – the things those two do together. He's fine to work with, but we don't have enough in common to be friends.”

The Eight of Spades.

“Which leaves me.” He showed the Ten of Diamonds. “They're my coworkers, not my friends or my family. We only work together to try and revive Kingdom Hearts. If I'm going to share the bounty I gained during salvage, I'll do it with someone whose company I enjoy.” He nudged the card over and revealed the Jack of Spades.

Facilier's card.

Facilier made a soft noise and covered his face again. Was he laughing? Or maybe he was blushing. But there was a surge of warmth in Luxord's chest, the echo of emotions from Facilier's heart he came here for -

“I like you,” Luxord said. Ha, that wasn't the gush of emotion that _daisuki_ would translate to properly, but it was better to play his cards close to the chest. He technically wasn't supposed to be seen by anyone outside of the Organization, after all, much less take them out to lunch every week. Heartless hunting? What a joke that had become. He'd be reprimanded for such a failed mission, later, but -

It was worth it. Worth the time, worth the secrecy, worth the misunderstandings. You had to risk it all to win big, didn't you?

“You like me enough to come here all the time,” Facilier said through his hand. “You don't plan for this to simply be a working relationship, do you? What are your intentions?”

Cautiousness? That was reasonable. Though Luxord intended to keep Facilier healthy and happy to feel the joy in his heart, he couldn't exactly tell him that. So he'd have to explain that in a way that sounded less like emotional vampirism.

“The Organization emphasizes efficiency. We work like a somewhat oiled clock; we fight, we sleep, we give and take orders. There is no room for pleasure except for what you can eke out on a mission. I can get my fill of fighting and pain every day. There would be no point in bringing that here. One does not go to a lotus pond to destroy it.”

Facilier flicked Luxord's arm. “That's very poetic and all, but can you translate that into plain text? Or do I ask if you're coming to my garden to look at the flowers or to wait for the tomatoes to ripen so you can take and eat them?”

“You don't have to destroy a plant to get fruit from it. If a relationship were a plant, would one not want to both enjoy the blossoms and fruit of it?”

“By what do we mean fruit, Monsieur Luxord?” Facilier's tone grew icy.

“A homecooked meal. A place to rest. A sanctuary, Doctor Facilier,” Luxord said simply. “Shadow Man is a heavy name to carry, but shadows protect one from sunburn, from being found.”

“A sanctuary, am I?” Facilier finished his papau and then folded his hands. “Does this mean that we need to rewrite our contract?”

“I don't think so,” Luxord said. Wait. No. What if Facilier wasn't happy with the way this was turning out? What if he told Luxord to leave? “Unless you wish to. If you feel like this is sufficiently outside of the contract's bounds, I'll gladly renegotiate it.”

“You'll let me decide,” Facilier said, voice cautious.

“If I forced you to do something, that would destroy the point of coming here. Again, you don't go to see art to rip it to pieces.”

“Art. Flowers. You keep on talking about me as if I'm something precious,” Facilier said softly. He put a hand on Luxord's arm. “But you keep on missing what I'm trying to say with fruits and relationships, Luxord.”

“Then could you explain it for me?”

Facilier swallowed, and Luxord watched the way his adam's apple bobbed, the way the column of is throat moved as he inhaled. What was he missing that needed such a moment to prepare for?

"People eat fruit. Men devour women - and men. Is that what you want from me?"

….oh.

_Oh._

He could feel his ears turning red – no, his entire face turning red. That was – he – what –

“No, n-no, I – I've sworn an oath of chastity, it's, it's a religious thing, ah, I-I have no interest in carnal desires!”

Facilier's shoulders relaxed. “Then there shouldn't be any problems. I don't have any problems with sanctuaries or – queer space love, I guess it'd be, but there's a point where I'm not willing to provide for a guest.”

“And you're firmly within the right for that,” Luxord said weakly. “And I don't want that. I like you, with your clever words and your cynicism. I don't want to eat you. I want to be your friend.”

“My friend,” Facilier said slowly, as if tasting the word.

“Friendship isn't an emotion. I may have no heart, but I can still engage in friendship,” Luxord said. “I think.”

“You don't have to ask me that,” Facilier said. “You're already my friend, aren't you?”

“I am?”

“Of course you are. You're,” Facilier said, then paused to choose words. “You're my favorite customer.”

Luxord beamed. “May I hug you?”

“Yes, but you need to do it lightly. You've got all that Nobody strength, and I'm just a man,” Facilier said, and patted Luxord's bicep.

Luxord gently wrapped an arm around Facilier's shoulder and rested his head on his shoulder. “I really, really do like you.”

“I like you too, dumbass,” Facilier said, and embraced him. 


	13. Day -108: a moment of silence who had to redo the flight between traverse town and wonderland 5 times because kingdom heart's flying minigame was designed by satan

The Superior loomed over everyone in the room Where Nothing Gathers, his perfect face set in a smile. “No. VI, No. X, report. What have you discovered about the projected path of the keybearer?”

Zexion flipped his long bangs and began. “My Scholars stationed in the asteroids that line the Lanes Between Worlds have registered the keybearer's ship. There is a 60% chance he will land on Wonderland, 19% that he'll land on Agrabah, and 19% that he'll land on Halloweentown. There is a 2% margin of error.”

“My Gamblers can confirm the keybearer's destination is Wonderland,” Luxord added. “We also believe that he'll go to Olympus Coliseum afterwards, given the information we got from the merchants in Traverse Town who talked to him.”

“One wonders how useful this information is, given that I was able to find it without risking our cover,” Zexion said.

“I believe that the price of some supplies and a disguise to just ask is worth the time otherwise wasted using calculus to possibly pinpoint a location,” Luxord responded, “especially with only a 60% success rate.”

Xigbar laughed, his salt-and-pepper hair falling out of his ponytail. His one working eye glittered with false amusement. “Brothers, brothers, you're both pretty! This is good information! Sometimes spies in ships and spies with money find different things, so having two means we're twice as sure where that Sora kid is going! Right, Lord Xemnas?”

“Indeed,” the Superior said. “Good work, both of you. We shall make preparations to greet the keybearer at all these worlds. Maleficent's Heartless already infest them, but we shall add in some of our own – the Heartless who devour other Heartless and contain endless hearts, and whose deaths will create the seed to Kingdom Hearts. Luxord.”

“Yes, Superior?”

“Tomorrow, your assignment is to bring a Heartless to Wonderland for the keybearer to defeat. Spend today finding the best Heartless for this task.”

“Of course.” Luxord bowed.

“You are dismissed. Now, Zexion – we shall discuss the results of your research...”

Luxord didn't bother to listen to more. He opened a portal and stepped into it, one step into a dark land, and stepped into his office. Spindly Gamblers with t-shaped helmets were bent over adding machines, bulky desktops and inventory lists, occasionally tossing papers to each other.

They all looked up from their work to Luxord. _Liege, what is it?_

“I come with orders from the Superior. I'll be visiting Castle Oblivion with the Heartless Measuring Department at 1500; inform them at once. The rest of you:” Luxord spread his arms to his Gamblers. “Keep up your fine work! You are the blood that keeps the heart of the Organization beating! You, my Gamblers, make me as proud as a Nobody can to be your leader!”

The Gamblers cheered and went back to work, typing speed doubling.

_We will make you proud!_

_Kingdom Hearts shall be created, and we shall be whole!_

_All hail the Organization's accountants!_

Luxord bowed to them – not the respectful bow for the Superior but a showman's flourish, a grateful superior acknowledging his subordinates – then walked to his office. Closed the door. Locked it.

Took out his magic mirror.

Under two layers of security was a special folder of photos.

* * *

 

Facilier turned Luxord's magic mirror over and over in his hands. “So this thing is a camera as well as being a telephone?”

“It also has a directory of Heartless, a directory of other monsters, a calculator, texting service, note taking, a painting program, and – ”

_Flash!_

Facilier cackled at Luxord's surprised expression. “Ha! I may not know half of what you're talking about, but I can figure it out! See?” He showed Luxord the screen, which featured an out of focus shot of Luxord's mouth.

“You've taken my photo! I've been caught!” Luxord melodramatically fell back, and Facilier laughed some more and took more photos.

“This is so much easier than a camera here - and they're all color photos!”

“Oh, my handsome face has been caught on screen!”

“Such a modest face, too!”

Luxord stuck his tongue out. “Try the button with arrows on it to see a truly beautiful face!”

Facilier tapped the reverse camera button. “It's me?”

“That button swaps which way the camera faces. You can take pictures of yourself!” Luxord walked behind Facilier and took his hand, guiding it so they were both in the camera's range. “See? Take a picture of both of us!”

“And it will be a picture of,” Facilier said, and beamed, “two very handsome people.”

_Flash._

* * *

 

Photos of himself. Photos of Facilier. Photos of the two of them, kept safe from the rest of the Organization with doors and passwords. What better motivation could he have to work, so the time could pass for him to go back to Facilier and take more pictures?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter, but my next update will be super long to make up for it! <3


	14. Day -107: Wonderland

Saix ruffled through the papers on his clipboard. The harsh light of the Grey Room made his face stern. “Axel, Luxord has requested you for today's mission. Please come get briefed with him.”

Axel yawned and stretched from an off white couch. “Wow, really? We don't get paired that often.”

Luxord waved. “I specialize in spycraft and trade. You specialize in assassination. I usually don't need someone who doesn't weigh the odds so much as crush them, but I'm transporting a live Heartless and I want to make sure we both make it to Wonderland intact.”

“Makes sense. I heard the Keybearer's heading there. Guess we're baiting the trap or something like that.” Axel stood. His leather coat clung to his skinny body, emphasizing his wide hips and his spindly fingers. He shook out his long, spiked red hair and winked; one of his teardrop tattoos dimpled on his cheek. “Let's have a good mission, Mister Gambler.”

“Indeed, Sir Assassin.”

* * *

 

Go to Castle Oblivion. Swap out normal inventory for curse-proof set of cards. Tell Marluxia what floor of storage was being accessed. Get the administrator's key. Go to the correct floor.

“This is a hell of a lot of work for just one Heartless. Why not dump a bunch of Heartless on the keybearer and move things along?” Axel said, pretending to file his nails through his gloves with his spiked chakram.

Luxord sighed as he typed in the passcode to enter the fourth storage unit of Castle Oblivion. “One Heartless full of many hearts is more efficient for our needs than many Heartless with few hearts. Besides, this one is weak enough that the keybearer should be able to kill it without too much hassle, but strong enough that Maleficent's heartless and the locals can't fend it off. If you leave it alone for long enough, it replicates itself like Pureblood Heartless do; if the keybearer procrastinates, he may end up facing three instead of one.”

“Hell of a heartless you've got there. Why do you need me for this, if it's so weak?”

Luxord pressed the card he got from Vexen into the slot on the door. The door's locks clicked open on by one. “Because,” Luxord said, “I need someone who's fireproof to help me pin it down.”

“Oh, so it's a sneaky thing, is it? Sounds like it'll be fun to capture.” Axel cracked his knuckles.

The door opened. They walked through.

White walls and white floor transformed into mountains, flowering hills and grey cobblestones under their feet. Fifty by fifty feet of room became a bite-sized piece of city, where tile roof houses and flowering trees decorated the hills where the cobblestones simply stopped.

“I'm never gonna get used to that,” Axel said. “It's creepy in here.”

“Creepier than white rooms with white floors?” Luxord asked.

“We live in a monotone grey castle. A monotone white castle isn't all that different,” Axel said. “Being back in our hometown when it's been under ice for ten years? Way creepier than a bad paint job.”

“Isn't it good to be reminded what we're in the game for? Once we have Kingdom Hearts and can chase Maleficent away from our home, everyone can come back like it was before.” Luxord hopped the cobblestone steps to the next door and put his administrator's card in the appropriate slot, opened the door, then turned and swept his arm out to the lines of blossoming cherry trees lining the road in the next room. “Isn't it nostalgic?”

“Nostalgic for that time I died, maybe.” Axel stomped into the next room and gestured around him. “There's no people here! There's no sound other than birds and shit! It's just a bunch of paintings with smell-o-vision pasted on!”

“It's what we have. We have no hearts but pretend we do, so why not have a pretend kingdom to go with it? That's the level we're stuck playing on.” Luxord breezed past him. “Come on. The Trickmaster Heartless is this way.”

“Fira.” One of the trees caught on fire. “There,” Axel said. “That's what this world should smell like. It was burning before it flooded and froze, wasn't it? Or would you not know, since you ran away and all?”

“That's a strange way to pronounce 'evacuation procedures,' Axel. It's not my fault you decided to play too close to the palace when the Heartless came.”

“What kind of person runs away from their palace house when monsters show up in it, huh?”

“One that has a job to do,” Luxord said flatly, opened the next door, and the doorknob swing back into Axel's stomach.

By the time Axel caught up, Luxord was halfway across the small, grassy room. A dozen floral scents crowded the air, and flowers bent and broke under Luxord's boots as he stalked across.

“I'm not done talking to you, Luxord!”

“The game is over,” Luxord said, and opened the next door.

“No, it's not!”

Luxord hopped up steps to a door emblazoned with a black heart with a cross at the bottom – the Heartless symbol. He shoved his administrator's keycard into the slot. “The Trickmaster Heartless we need to capture is in this room.”

"Now I see how you're related to I through VI - you're just as good as avoiding what you don't want to hear as your family!”

Luxord slammed the door open and stalked through. In this room of Castle Oblivion, they were now at the doors of a great castle built with rust-red brick and purplish sandstone; a great steel door barred the way in. Steel curlicues like the bones of bat wings unfurled from each side of the castle.

“Where's the Heartless?” Axel asked.

“I wouldn't know. I ran _away_ from the castle,” Luxord said. “Maybe you can find it, since you know my family home so well.”

“You're as much of a shitlord as Zexion is when you're pissed,” Axel said. “Fine. I'll capture it myself.” He summoned two spiked chakrams into his hands and stomped to the center of the paved courtyard. “Come out, come out! Don't keep me waiting, will you? I want a fight – ”

All Luxord saw was a blur of red and purple slam into Axel's back; then there was a crack as Axel's forehead hit stone. The Heartless catapulted off Axel and backflipped, landing behind him as smoothly as a cat.

It looked like a bizarre toy, with tin hinged legs and black paper arms that unfurled from an hourglass-shaped body. Five tiny heads were stacked on top of each other like poker chips; each head had beady eyes and a huge mouth, and they alternated the same reds and purples as the castle. On the very top head was a bulging black orb the size of a fist; the weight of it made the Heartless's stack of heads sway from side to side with each motion.

It was only the size of a ten year old, and the two batons it summoned looked as fragile as paper mache. Luxord knew better. When the Heartless lifted them both over its head, he started running towards Axel; the batons slammed down on a steel card Luxord raised as a shield.

The blow made his teeth rattle, but the card took the brunt of it. He could destroy this Heartless's body with a few spells if he wanted to, but he had to bring it to Wonderland intact, and -

“Axel! Can you stand?”

“Nuh uh. I'm gonna be sick,” Axel said, and retched.

He'd have to protect Axel during the fight, too. Dammit. Trickmaster slammed its batons into Luxord's card shield again and again – but when it raised its arms up the third time, Luxord took his card and slammed it into Trickmaster's side, sending it reeling.

Trickmaster wobbled forward and attacked again. Luxord blocked again, slammed it away from Axel, then smacked his materia bracelet and cast: “Blizzara!”

Ice spiked from between the paving stones, freezing Trickmaster to the ground from the knees down. Luxord shoved his hands in his pockets as he backed away to Axel. He dared look away from Trickmaster to Axel; he was curled up on the ground next to a puddle of vomit, his face already coloring bruised where it wasn't bloody. One pupil was huge and the other tiny. How had the damn thing made him hit the ground so hard, Luxord thought, when it was supposed to be a weak Heartless?

Luxord finally found the tiny bottle glass bottle he needed in his fourth pocket and yanked it out. He knelt next to Axel as he bit the stopper off. He cupped Axel's head and brought the bottle to his lips. “I'm taking a gamble,” he whispered, and poured watery pink liquid into Axel's mouth, “but I think a Phoenix Down can fix whatever Trickmaster did to your head. Please don't have broken your spine- ”

The feather inside the bottle streamed into Axel's lips. Axel swallowed, blinked, opened his eyes; his pupils were both the same size now.

“Thank goodness,” Luxord breathed.

Axel grabbed Luxord by the hair and yanked him to his chest. Luxord yelped. Trickmaster's baton whistled where Luxord's head had been a second before.

“Firaga!”

Fire burst from Axel's hand and set Trickmaster ablaze. Luxord helped Axel stagger to his feet as the Heartless writhed. “How does your head feel?”

“Better, but I still feel like I'm gonna vom,” Axel replied. “Wait. What the hell is it doing?”

The Trickmaster spun in a circle, then shivered. Fire flickered and died away until the only things flaming were the two batons.

“This is why I brought you. I forgot to mention it,” Luxord said. “It sets those on fire, and then it - ”

Threw the flaming batons at them. The two men ducked away in opposite directions. Axel stumbled, then grasped his chakrams tightly and took a deliberate step back. “Luxord! I'll keep it busy while you set up the trap!”

“On it!”

Luxord took out a deck and laid half in a circle lengthwise, then another circle around that with the other half. As he set up the enchantment for the trap with whispered words, Axel dodged Trickmaster's blows, catching the batons in his chakrams' spiked notches when it attacked.

Axel was good, but for every one step he took forward attacking, he took three back defending. Luxord wished there was a materia for a spell this complex so he could get the fight away from Axel quicker, but no – but he'd mastered it enough it only took about 30 seconds to cast, from getting the cards out to finishing the incantation. “Axel! Now!”

Axel swept Trickmaster's foot out from under it, then turned and ran. It only took Trickmaster a few seconds to rebalance and chase after him. Luxord started chanting as they grew closer, closer, closer!

Trickmaster's foot hit the center of the circle of cards. Luxord finished his chant and cast: “Stopza!” The Heartless froze in place like a toy ballerina, one foot still upraised, and the cards swept around it up and up, bigger and bigger, until they hid it within a storm of cards – and then fell as in a neatly stacked deck.

“Gotcha,” Axel breathed. He managed a few steps more, then fell on his butt. “Geeez, that was a pain. Do we really have to deliver it today?”

“The keybearer arrives at Wonderland tonight. The sooner we get it there, the better. Curaga!” Axel's face went from ashen to a healthy brown as the magic washed over him. “But once it's there, you'll have the rest of the day at your leisure. Are you ready to leave?”

“Not yet. I need to catch my breath.” Axel flopped onto his back.

Luxord huffed and sat down next to him. “Do you still feel ill?”

“Kinda nauseous, but it's going away. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I can talk to the kitchen staff,” Luxord said. “It might be food poisoning. The lessers can't get it, but our bodies are close enough to being human that something could have happened.”

“Pffft, us, food poisoning? I don't think so. You may be a picky gourmet, but I have literally eaten trash on missions before and I've always been fine.” Axel elbowed Luxord's leg. “Don't you live off cake?”

“Cake and gumbo.”

“What's a gumbo?”

“Oh,” Luxord said, and kept his face from revealing how much of a slip that was. “A fish and vegetable stew. It's a common meal in the Quarantines.”

“You're going na~tive!”

“My mother was from the Quarantines! It's only natural I'd like some of the food there.”

“Don't make excuses. Didn't your mom die when you were a baby? You just like eating things without the Superior breathing down your neck.” Axel sat up and draped an arm over Luxord's shoulder. “You act all straight laced but you're just as much as a slob as the rest of us.”

Luxord smiled back stiffly. “The Superior likes to talk about how we'll become human again by creating Kingdom Hearts when he catches people during dinner. That's the one time I don't feel up to his speeches.”

“He does get pretty wordy.” Axel patted Luxord's back hard, then hopped to his feet. “Come on! The sooner we deliver that sucker to Wonderland, the sooner we can eat!”

* * *

 

“So why do you spend all your time here eating? You've got food at your alien headquarters, don't you?” Facilier had asked him that day over lunch.

Luxord was three bowls of gumbo in and counting to Facilier's two, and he finished his fourth bowl before he answered. “When I was a child, I was sickly. That's why I have so many earrings; my father hoped that their magic would help ward off the symptoms that killed my mother.” He tugged on his ear and ran his finger over two hoops and the upside down heart and cross that made the Nobody sigil. “The main way to moderate the effects of it was through moderating my food. As long as I didn't eat too many sweets and cast a certain curative spell on myself before meals, I was usually fine.”

“So this is a disease that kills people from eating cake?”

“Sort of?” Luxord shrugged. “It's a condition where the body can't turn sugar into energy. The body can't function without energy, so you fall into a coma and die. High sugar foods could speed up that reaction. The spell would help my body digest the sugar safely.”

“And if you missed a spell, you could die.”

“More or less.” Luxord helped himself to another bowl of gumbo. “But a Nobody's made of magic, not flesh. I can eat whatever I want now.”

“Did it get tiring? Having to do all that to stay alive?” Facilier asked.

“I had to do it since I was six. Most of the time, it never felt like something more than normal to me.” Luxord twisted his arm around to spin his materia bracer. “It was mostly other people's reactions to it. I lived with the Disnets for a year and they eat a lot of fruits and sweets.” He mimicked an apologetic tone and clapped his hands together while trying to hold his spoon of gumbo level. “I'm sorry, Ms. Duck, but as wonderful as this home cooked meal looks, I literally can't eat half of it or I might die.”

“They eat that much fruit?”

“They have roadside stores that you bring fruit to and they'll turn it into ice cream for you. They use any fruit you bring. One time, this child Max, he ordered a box of durians from the Sea of Stars – it's a delicious fruit but it smells like a corpse. He lugged the across town as soon as it arrived, stank up the entire town square, but we ate durian ice cream for a week.”

“Lord, what did his parents do?”

“His father was ecstatic that his son found such a good new thing for the community – that's not the answer you were expecting?” Luxord gestured at Facilier's face as the echo of Facilier's surprise curled as light as a cloud in his chest.

“If I stank up the town, my aunties would tan my hide,” Facilier said.

“...I'm not familiar with that colloquialism.”

“Probably for the best.” Facilier waved the thought away. “Everything's so sugary sweet in space. They probably don't discipline them with an ashen rod there.”

“I still don't understand.” But the echo of Facilier's heart was roiling, now, and Luxord put down his spoon. “Do you mean to say, ah, violence as child discipline?”

“You make it sound worse than it is.” Facilier huffed. “Stop giving me that sad kitten look. My mama was real soft on me; I just had to stay well behaved around my aunts, ok?”

“Corporal punishment isn't effective as a deterrent and is unnecessarily cruel,” Luxord said.

“Don't you Organization people hit each other during fights?”

“Yes, but we're all of age! Punishments should be shaped to help the child learn what not to do, rather than simply creating disincentives for certain behaviors without giving a good reason!”

“What if a child doesn't want to stay in the rules?”

“Why wouldn't a child want to stay within the rules? They exist in order to enable the harmonious existence of a community!”

“The harmony of a community may not be good for everyone involved. Why bother with rules when they exist to mess you up?”

“At home, the rules were created in order to obtain the greatest amount of good for the greatest amount of people!”

“That may be in space, but this is New Orleans!”

Luxord felt heat bubbling inside his chest – if Facilier was upset enough for so much distress to radiate from his heart to Luxord's empty shell – and to raise his voice – then this was not an ideal topic. “It is. We've wandered far off topic. I enjoy the food here,” he said, and smiled.

Facilier did not speak for a long moment. Then he got a papau fruit and sliced it up, offered the fruit to Luxord. “Truce?”

“Truce.” Luxord took the fruit and ate it.

Facilier managed a small smile. “I imagine that sister of yours walked all over you, didn't she?”

“She did,” Luxord said, and grinned. “One time she jumped off a stairwell and I sprained my collarbone catching her.”

“You're softer than this fruit, idiot," Facilier said fondly.

* * *

 

It was a half hour walk through one portal, into the dark world, and out another to Wonderland. It was a trip that would take at least three days by gummi ship, two weeks by hopping world to world, so dark portal was the way to go.

The dark world was, well, dark. The only light came from luminescent blue crystals that peeked out of stalactites the size of skyscrapers and a tiny, heart-shaped moon in the sky far above. The good thing about bringing Axel on a mission was he could light a fire in his hand with barely a thought. There was no mucking around with a magic mirror's light mode or trying to set up a Spark spell to make sure you didn't fall on your face over a rock in the darkness.

“There's less Shadows out here,” Axel said, and he kicked one of the cat-sized Heartless out of his way. It sailed a good 30 feet before hitting a rock. “Usually we end up making more roadkill than this. You think they're all out trying to eat that Sora kid?”

“I'd bet on it,” Luxord said. “If he can wield a keyblade, his heart must be like a three-tiered cake to them.”

“Can you imagine what his Nobody's gonna end up like? This kid's mowing through Heartless like Sephiroth at a science convention!”

“Don’t take One Wing’s name in vain, Axel.” Luxord formed a triangle with his fingers and smiled. “They did kill his entire planet. Such a thirst for revenge... It's refreshing to have the normal avarice of humankind replaced with wrath.”

"I'd like to see him up close, see how he measures up! Can you imagine? We've seen what we can do to a heartless - imagine seeing that slaughter up close!" Axel laughed and punted another Heartless out of his way. “I want to see his technique!”

“Xigbar gave me a scrying device we can set up in the room with the Trickmaster. We can use it to record his battle with it,” Luxord said. “Perhaps we can ask Xemnas to have a screening for the entire Organization. We'll make popcorn.”

“Yeah! But Vexen would bitch us out for being lazy and try and set up a punishment.”

“Not if he got to study the keybearer's heart,” Luxord said. Yet, the mention of punishment made him think back on his and Facilier’s conversation. “Did Vexen and the others often punish you before I joined? When the Organization was founded.” He mimicked an open handed slap, then a punch.

“What, you didn't realize before? They punished us loads of times!” Axel took a big wind up and punted a Darkball, a Heartless the size and shape of a beachball, into a crystal-lined abyss. “We were naughty little kids!”

“Weren't you 15?”

“Close enough to kid.” Axel shrugged. “What, they weren't like that as parents?”

“If I did something wrong, they'd have me write a full page calligraphy apology letter to whoever I wronged,” Luxord said. “No violence. Not until I joined the Organization.”

“Losing their hearts must've changed them. Doesn't it happen? Cute kid becomes keen assassin, big nerd becomes gambler nerd, Zexion learns how to speak – it happens.” Axel elbowed Luxord playfully. “And look at how powerful we've all become! I'd think they'd say that a little violence was worth getting some fighters out of it, don't you?”

“They would,” Luxord said. If he had a heart, there might be a cold pit in his stomach at the thought, but the Organization required fighters to create Kingdom Hearts. It was for the good of the universe. The ends justified the means and so on. “We are only servants of the universe.”

“You sound like your parents, man.” Axel helped Luxord climb up a ledge where a large silver signpost stood. WONDERLAND was carved there. “Looks like this is our stop. Get your cards out.”

“On it.” Luxord pulled out a deck of steel cards as Axel opened a portal into Wonderland, and they both stepped through.

This portal lead to a long pathway with red-checkered walls and floor. Golden clocks clustered the walls. At one end was a high, high ceiling that ended with a point of light, an opening; at the other was a circular wooden door that both Axel and Luxord would have to duck through to enter.

“Should we plant the Trickmaster here?” Axel asked.

“No. It could escape through there.” Luxord pointed up at the light. “The next room should suffice. If memory serves, it's a closed off space.”

“Right, right.”

The room through the door looked like a child's bedroom. A tiny bed stood opposite a huge fireplace, and a table covered in bottles of pills covered the space in the middle.

“Reminds me of home,” Luxord says. He took out the deck of cards he'd trapped Trickmaster in and set it in the middle of the room. “That ought to do it. I imagine it'll lay it's egg in the fireplace once the card trap releases it. Hopefully the strain of laying will weaken it enough for the keybearer to slay it.”

“I hope so. Fuckin thing makes me feel like someone tap danced on my grave,” Axel said, and stomped on the inert card trap.

Luxord sighed. “You don't have a heart.”

“No, but I can say that thing wigs me out.” Stomp, stomp. “I hope it fucking rots!”

“Heartless can't decompose.”

Axel barked a laugh. “What kind of Heartless lays eggs, anyway? I thought only purebreds could do that. Don't the ones with the Seeker's marks reproduce by splitting in half?”

“Maybe it's a Heartless made from two hearts?” Luxord shrugged. “I”m a gambler, not a scientist.”

“What kind of idiots get killed by one heartless at the same time?” Axel muttered. He gave the cards a last kick and turned around. “Let's go report to Saix. Maybe we can get the rest of the day off.”

“I hope so,” Luxord said.

* * *

 

“When will you come back?” Facilier asked. He kept on petting Luxord's head as he lay on Facilier's lap.

“I don't know. With the Keybearer running around, my schedule's going to be based on his movements. I'll try and come back within the next two weeks, but I can't promise anything.”

Facilier's fingers ruffled through Luxord's hair. “Better you come back late than pull a stupid stunt on one of your missions to finish early and get hurt.”

“Of course. Do you want me to bring you something? Traverse Town's a refugee town, so they don't have much in the way of gifts, but I'm sure I could find something. My people have an amicable relationship with the merchants there – my old master's great-nephews run a shop there, too, and they're known for high quality goods.”

“Bring me candy. I can't eat chocolate anymore after you got me the real thing. Also, 'master's' a real loaded word here – can you pick a word that's not dripping with slavery?”

“Of course!” Luxord waved his fingers. “I'd call him sensei; the closest word in your language is 'teacher', I believe. I spent a year apprenticed to him to learn business and accounting. The rest of my family was up to their ears in science, so I decided I'd learn something more practical to help out. Scrooge-sa – er, Mr. Scrooge was a pleasant person to be around. Good sense of humor, practical, always learning new things. He made me feel like part of the family.”

Facilier smiled a knowing smile, though for once Luxord wasn't sure what Facilier knew. “Sounds like you liked him a lot.”

“He was a good person. Saved my life half a dozen times. If I could see him again....” Luxord sighed. “But that would put him in too much danger. Nobodies are forbidden on civilized worlds, after all, and consorting with us most likely holds peril.”

“But your minions work with his nephews, right?”

“Yes, but in disguise! You'd be amazed at what money and a good mask can do.”

“You'll have to show me,” Facilier said, and then his head snapped to the side.

Luxord could hear the singing, but it was muffled. Seven voices raised in harmony, singing in tune with a heartbeat. He sat up. “It seems your Friends wish to speak to us.”

“You can hear them t – no, nevermind. We should go see them.” Facilier levered himself off the bed, and Luxord steadied him until he could get a good grip on his cane. “Guess they never cut off that thing that lets you hear them.”

“That or they're just loud,” Luxord said.

Facilier snorted. “They don't like sass. Watch your mouth.” Be careful, Luxord translated.

They traversed the staircase downstairs arm in arm.

Facilier's seven Friends were floating around the table on the dais of his shop; the bull-faced mask who lead them took the chair at the head of the table like a festive CEO. **Nothing man, we wish to discuss arrangements with you,** they intoned.

“Of course, oh leader. What shall I call you? I've never heard your name,” Luxord replied, and bowed respectfully. The Friends were old, powerful Heartless, more men than monsters, and the bull-faced mask was the oldest and most intelligent of the lot. And when doing business with other sentient beings, no matter what species they were, Luxord knew two things increased the chances of success: taking the other party seriously, and buttering them up like a Disnet bread roll.

The bull-faced mask glanced at their cohorts, their wooden eyebrows raising, before turning back to Luxord. **You may address me as Bull. You and Lazerus will sit at the table.**

Bull, Luxord thought as he helped Facilier into a chair. Because they look like a bull. Very to the point. Their skill with names is worse than Xemnas's, Luxord thought, and he put on a perfect smile.

“You wish to have an arrangement with me as Doctor Facilier does. Is that correct?” he asked, hands folded neatly as he sat.

**Something like it. We believe we have something you want, and that you can give us what we desire to gain it.**

“Such is the nature of a trade,” Luxord said. “Please, elucidate.”

 **Fancy asshole,** muttered the mask that looked like a soldier.

 **Hush,** whispered the mask that looked like a little old lady. **He has more breeding than you do, bless your heart.**

Bull ignored the other masks. **Doctor Facilier owes us a debt of 2,162 souls in exchange for his continued life force. We will allow you to bring us souls to pay his debt so that you may receive more of his services.**

Facilier stiffened next to him. Luxord nodded and pulled out a pad and paper. “Excellent. What are the terms of this arrangement?”

Bull blinked. **That is simply it. Bring us souls and we will allow you to take more of Lazerus's time.**

Luxord wrote that down. “So now I”m a co-payer of his debt. 2,162 is the total amount of souls, correct?”

 **Why are you writing it down?** Asked the mask that looked like an alligator.

“Verbal agreements have no legal binding where I'm from. I'm putting this in writing,” Luxord said. “Can any of you hold a pen? I want a signature.”

Facilier hissed, “Luxord, you can't just make a bunch of demons sign an agreement!”

“Why not? Ursula the sea witch does it, and she's over 300 years old and a demigod. If it's good enough for the bane of the Atlantic, she who sank a thousand ships, it's good enough for Bull and their Friends.”

Facilier scooted his chair closer to Luxord as he scribbled. “It's one thing to make me write up a contract, but they're all - ”

 **We're better than some _boy_ who likes playing at doctor, ** said the Soldier **. Don't hold us to _his_ standards. We're more trustworthy than him. **

“If you expect me to believe that you'll hold up a verbal contract with no other guarantees, I suppose you'd like to sell me a bridge afterwards,” Luxord said. “Bull, I'm writing up a contract to guarantee that I will stick to my word, and to know that you will do the same. We're both mature beings of darkness capable of making a deal without resorting to subterfuge, just as the gods are.”

 _He's trying to manipulate you_ , said the mask that looked like a young woman.

The bull-faced mask stared down at Luxord's scribbling. **No. Humans are greedy and lack forethought. The fact that none have considered writing this down shows how foolish they are. None of you thought of it when you made your deals with me.**

 **I was being eaten alive at the time,** said the Gator.

 **Gator excluded** , Bull acknowledged. **I will review the terms.**

Luxord slid over the paper. “Do you know what interest is?”

**I'm capable of being interested, yes.**

“Good.” Very good, Luxord thought; Facilier's debt wasn't constantly expanding from interest. “I've written the terms, and added that the debt cannot be arbitrarily enlargened by threatening Facilier's health. This is soul finance, not extortion.”

**Fine. I find the terms acceptable.**

“Sign it or leave a mark.”

A huge and bony black limb grew from the back of the mask and pressed a cloven hoof on the contract, leaving a black hoofprint. _Done._

“Very good.” Luxord signed the contract, then peeled the secondary sheet from the bottom and handed it to the masks. “Here's a copy for you to keep for reference.”

 **Fascinating,** said Bull.

“Now,” Luxord said, “I have my own proposal for you.”

* * *

 

Walk back to the World That Never Was. Check in with Saix. Take an errand to fight Heartless until they dropped a quota of gemstones. Go back into the dark world.

It was like shooting fish in a barrel. He threw cards on the ground that exploded when a Heartless stepped on them, and collected the gemstones their bodies shriveled into after they died. Others, he left traps for, and collected decks of cards with cat-sized Heartless trapped inside. On the path between The World That Never Was and Bayou Boulevard, he was able to collect his quota of gemstones and catch about 20 Heartless.

His portal opened on Facilier's roof. Luxord opened the hatch down to Facilier's room and hopped down, a smile spreading on his face. He tore downstairs, taking the stairs three at a time, and then hopped into the shop.

Facilier was already getting up from his work table. “Luxord!”

“Facilier!” He ran to him and grasped his hands. “I can stay until dusk.”

“Good. I want to hear all about what you've been doing.” Facilier held Luxord's hands to his chest, then looked to his masks as they floated off the wall. “My friends have been waiting for you, too. Go talk to them before they get impatient.”

“Of course.” Luxord pulled his decks of trapped Heartless and approached the Friends. “Bull, this deck has five Heartless with one heart in them each, which represents a payment for Facilier's debt. This deck has five Heartless with one heart each, which is my payment for your services. And this deck,” he finished, and he held up the last deck, “has ten Heartless within it, which I want you to turn into a monster no one has ever seen before – just as you turned your Friends from human to the creatures beside you.”

Bull grinned. **It shall be done. I shall make you the most baffling creatures your Superior has ever seen.**

“And I will bring you more Heartless to transform next week.”

Three of the other masks picked up Luxord's decks, and the seven of them gathered in a circle as Luxord returned to Facilier's side. “So, Doctor, are you ready to hear about the horrible creature I had to wrangle today?”

“Always. Another coworker?”

Luxord laughed. It almost felt real with Facilier at his side, whose smile was gentle and warm as the sun. “A good guess, but this is one I'm usually civil with! Instead, let me tell you of the Heartless that looked and acted as unsettling as a clown.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: please don't actually hit children


	15. Day -90: Deep Jungle

The Friends worked their heartless magic in the swamps for four days. Facilier dined on handmade sausages and the rock candy Luxord had brought and helped lay out two bodies, sold a rich white man a potion to grow his hair back and made enough money to afford new pants. The pair he'd worn since he was 14 was finally growing too small for him thanks to his new rich man's meal plan.

Annette was more lively than any woman he'd ever seen a month after childbirth, dancing with her husband and chasing Boni around like she hadn't almost had her pelvis rip in two giving birth. Luxord's earrings adorned every loose shirt and swaddling cloth Faith wore. She was, Annette said, too small for pierced ears yet.

They let him come for Sunday dinner. He heard about cousins he hadn't seen in years.

His life was good again.

When Luxord came rattling down the ladder two weeks later, he looked radiant; his already wide smile doubled in size when he saw Facilier cooking boudin sausages with rice. “They smell incredible! What are these wonderful things?”

“Fresh sausages. I could afford to make some, and you came just in time for dinner.” He smirked as Luxord hung over his shoulder like a hungry cat. There was a dark discoloration under Luxord’s eye – the remains of an injury that took extra magic to heal, Facilier knew from experience. He petted Luxord’s face as he added: “You got your timing just right today.”

“Indeed I did.” Luxord leaned into Facilier’s touch, needy as a cat. “I thought that this day couldn't be more perfect, and yet you've proved me wrong.”

“For a man with no heart, you sure seem happy. What happened?”

“An enemy of the Organization has been defeated at last. He poked his nose in too close, and the iron jaws of the Organization snapped around him.” Luxord mimicked a jaw snapping shut with his hand, then paused. “Well, mostly snapped around him. He's alive, but I doubt he'll be coming back from where we sent him.”

“Enemy, huh. Go ahead and sit down; I'll make you dinner.”

“Thank you.” Luxord stepped away; wood squeaked as he pulled out a chair. “I didn't expect him to be so strong – he's quite minuscule compared to us.”

“Luxord, I'm six inches taller than you.”

“I'm not the shortest in the family!” Facilier caught Luxord massaging his wrists as he turned to get some more pepper. “I'm going to be feeling this for a while.”

“Who was it, then? You can't waltz into my kitchen proclaiming you've defeated your sworn nemesis and not tell me who it is,” Facilier said, and he waved his wooden spoon at Luxord.

“We've finally delivered justice unto Mickey Mouse,” Luxord cooed.

“Say what.”

“Mickey Mouse! King consort to queen Minnie, who rules the Disnets in this region under the - ”

“Luxord. Shh. Stop.” Facilier waved his spoon until Luxord stopped. “Back up. I know who Mickey Mouse is. You told me he's a king and he was poking around your haunted castle. I just – he's a cartoon character,” he snickered. “Mickey Mouse, hahaha, I'm sorry, you killed Mickey Mouse.”

“He's not dead,” Luxord said, face going unnaturally flat. “Though not for lack of trying.”

“You tried to murder Mickey Mouse. I'm sorry, that's hilarious,” Facilier said, trying and failing to contain his laughter.

Luxord sat down at the table, face still blank. “I thought you'd be excited for me.”

“I am, I am!” Facilier rubbed his face, coaxing the smile off. “I just – Mickey Mouse, ha! Can you, can you tell me about it, but don't use that name? Use a name you really hate instead.”

Luxord nodded and folded his hands. “This morning, I was getting a Heartless out of storage for my brother Xigbar to throw into battle against the Keybearer. Apparantly, he's on a world with a colony of Disnets trying to 'commune with nature,'” and Luxord rolled his eyes, “and some humans from the Quarantine are trying to kill them to sell their corpses as oddities. The Heartless Xigbar requested was a most difficult one to find because it could turn invisible, and so I was too flustered when I left the storage to notice how quiet the castle had become.

“But then,” Luxord said, face growing animated, “one of my Gamblers came to me with news of Mi – of _Ansem._ ”

* * *

 

The Gambler doubled over, panting for breath. _The Disnet king is in the courtyard and the others are fighting him! Please, come at once! The other Gamblers you assigned here – and the Pharmacists and Ninjas, they've been slaughtered! No. V and No. XI need your help!_

Luxord took out his deck of fighting cards and nodded. “I'll go at once. You – get to safety. I can handle this; you need to focus on the audit and keep yourself whole.” He cast Curaga on the Gambler, curing her wounds, and gestured. “Go to the World That Never Was and await further orders. And don't get killed. That's also an order!”

_Yes, Sir!_

They both used the great marble stone installed on all levels of Castle Oblivion to teleport to the  ground floor; the Gambler used a dark portal to leave, while Luxord rushed outside.

Castle Oblivion was in the ruins of a world; while the castle itself was parked on a nice kilometer square of solid land, the rest of the ground orbited around it like a tiny asteroid field, blocking out starlight with the slow rotation of a thousand rocky chunks.

And among those rocks he could see a tiny figure flitting from rock to rock as swiftly as a hummingbird, while a bigger one hurtled after it like an orca with a jetpack.

“Lexaeus,” Luxord muttered, and looked from rock to rock. Mickey and Lexaeus were having a duel among the asteroids, and there was no easy opening for him to slip into the battle – and they were too far away for him to try and toss a card in.

“I doubt we'll be able to join in unless they come back to the land of this castle,” Marluxia said. Luxord glanced over at him; his hood was up, and Luxord pulled his up likewise. Mickey could recognize him – and even a little bit of head protection would be good. “I was unable to damage him while he was down here – he's too swift, and hid among my Pharmacists.”

“Did any survive?”

“I sent them back into the castle. This is a job for us, the elites.” Marluxia smiled. “I have a special surprise for him if he comes back down.”

“Good. Is Xigbar up there?” Luxord asked. A shower of bright lights answered him: the energy arrows from Xigbar's gun.

“Yes. He's trying to land a hit on the mouse without harming Lexaeus.” Marluxia pointed up. “He's making sure that Lexaus has places to land, as well. Fighting in an asteroid field is no easy thing, so Xigbar is sending asteroids flying for Lexaeus to land on.”

“Right. So how do we get up there without maiming ourselves on the rocks?”

“We don't. We wait.”

“Them coming down is a gamble. I don't want to leave this to chance.” Luxord pulled out his magic mirror and texted Xigbar. **Tell V we'll do The World then lure Mickey back to the ground.**

* * *

 

“Hold up,” Facilier said. “First off, you can send each other messages through your magic mirror? How do you write on that thing?”

“I’ll show you,” Luxord said, and pulled out his magic mirror.

“Good. Second off, you name your attacks?”

“Only when I’m coordinating with other people.” Luxord showed off the texting app on his magic mirror; Facilier scrolled through the messages, which were written in a combination of familiar letters and Luxord’s foreign script. “Usually one of us is strong enough to fight alone, so I only have group attacks with a couple people. The World requires some planning to accomplish, especially when the target and Lexaeus are both airborne.”

Facilier went hmm. “So, how does The World work? Why’s it so powerful?”

“It combines my time powers with Lexaeus’s skill with the earth. Now, first Xigbar and Lexaeus drove King Mi – Ansem back to the ground through a series of clever maneuvers which I will skip over so we can get to the good part. That’s when I entered the fray.”

* * *

 

King Mickey landed with a somersault on cracked earth, which was Luxord’s signal to go. A few steps through darkness took him from the castle steps to Mickey’s side. He slammed a giant metal card down on the mouse, but Mickey blocked him before countering by spinning and ramming his blunted blade into the back of Luxord’s knee. Luxord fell to one knee, but continued with a sweep of his cards; Mickey danced over them and slammed the flat of his blade against Luxord’s jaw.

Luxord rammed his elbow into Mickey’s solar plexus. Mickey staggered, but then grabbed Luxord’s hood and used it to yank his head down and knee Luxord in the face. Luxord grabbed Mickey by the shoulders and slammed him into the ground, using his extra 100 pounds of weight to pin Mickey down.

He expected Mickey to block the first punch. Mickey did not. But he stopped Luxord’s second blow with four breathy words:

“Ansem? Is that you?”

Luxord stiffened with his arm held back as his body flashed ice, then fire. His hood was down. Mickey had seen his face. Mickey had recognized him, or more accurately, recognized –

Bone crunched as Luxord hit Mickey again, giving him a black eye to match the one Mickey had given him.

* * *

 

“Hold on. Stop.” Facilier waved his arms. “Who’s Ansem? Why does Mickey Mouse think you’re Ansem?”

Luxord turned red.

* * *

 

And he hit Mickey Mouse again. And again.

* * *

 

“Luxord, stop ignoring my questions.”

* * *

 

Until Luxord recognized a shadow looming over them both. Lexaeus’s half of the attack.

“Stopza,” he hissed, and the spell froze Mickey Mouse in place except for his eyes, which were glued on the asteroid Lexaeus was riding to crush Mickey Mouse with. It only took a few seconds for a rock that big to hit the ground, so he used a dark portal to warp away – well away from when the huge rock slammed into the ground and crushed –

* * *

 

“ _Luxord_!” Facilier snapped.

Luxord jumped in his seat as if snapping out of a reverie. The snarl on his face faded into a polite blankness.  “My apologies. I was caught up in telling the story and didn’t hear you. Are you alright? You look pale.”

“I don’t want to hear about someone getting splattered into pieces on the road,” Facilier said, his skin ashen. “And I don’t particularly want to hear you gleefully talking about killing someone neither. Even Mickey Mouse. Especially Mickey Mouse!”

“I thought you weren’t taking this seriously,” Luxord said. “And Mickey Mouse deserves – ”

“Shut up!” Facilier gripped Luxord’s hand tight enough to make his leather glove strain. “I don’t care, alright? I know you and he have a history, I don’t mind that you’re a killer, but I don’t want graphic detail about how someone’s body ripped open and how they deserved it! I deal with that enough in real life as it is.”

Luxord’s eyes flickered to Facilier’s knee before he nodded. “Of course. As someone who heals the dying, you must see quite a few corpses. Again, I apologize.”

“Good. Don’t do it again,” Facilier said. “Now, when you came in, you said that Mickey Mouse got his just desserts, not that he’d died. What happened?”

* * *

 

Lexaeus lifted the 2-ton rock with one hand, as if merely lifting a Styrofoam block.

Xigbar circled around the area where Luxord and Mickey had fought, his one eye flitting to and fro. “There’s no bloodstains, no dead mouse. Where is he?”

Luxord sat up from where he lay panting on the ground. There was a dark smudge under his eye where Mickey had broken his cheekbone and Lexaus had forced it to heal back. “He was next to me when I portaled. He might have followed me into the dark world.”

“People with strong wills can break stop spells, and that mouse has always been trouble,” Xigbar muttered. “If he’s in the dark world, there’s not much we can do, right?

“What a wonderful job you’ve done, Luxord, letting him escape,” Marluxia said.

“At least I fought!” Luxord snapped back.

“This is a positive thing,” Lexaeus rumbled, and the three Nobodies turned to him. “If Mickey is trapped in the dark world of the Heartless, he will lose his heart sooner or later.”

* * *

 

“So that’s it? You just left him there because the Heartless would kill him?”

“We did try to look for him,” Luxord said. “All we found in the end were footprints leading to a cliff over a deep gorge. None of us had the time to go spelunking for mice, and it’s not as if he has a way to leave the dark world. He’ll lose his heart sooner or later, or misstep and fall and break his neck. He’ll die or become a Heartless and either way, he’s out of our hair.”

“Right.” Facilier sucked in breath. “Which means you won and he’s not poking your magic castle. Right.”

“Right,” Luxord parroted back. He cupped Facilier’s hand between his own and bowed his head. “But we don’t have to speak more on this if you don’t wish to. There’s other things we can talk about. Whatever you desire.”

“Right.” Facilier took one of Luxord’s hands and pulled the glove off. The knuckles were blemished; he’d fought the mou -fought Mickey Mouse hard enough that a mere healing spell wasn’t enough to fix it. “Can you answer a question?”

“Of course,” Luxord said.

“This Ansem. Is this man your father?”

Luxord didn’t respond.

“You chose him as the name you hate, and you got all violent when Mickey mentioned him in your story.”

Luxord didn’t respond.

“And he said that when your disguise hood came off; as if he recognized you.”

Luxord pulled his hands away and formed a fist over an open palm.

“I know that if you’re challenging me to prove it through Rock Paper Scissors, I’m right,” Facilier said. This time, he was the one who cupped Luxord’s hands. “Mentioning him makes you get sloppy. We may as well talk about it now before you say the wrong thing in front of Annette, because she’ll tell everyone in New Orleans and I know you don’t want that.”

Luxord sighed. His hands curled weakly in Facilier’s grasp. “You are correct. Ansem Locke Radiant til Alexandros was my biological father. Although he was not literally a bastard, it would still be apt to refer to him as one. And it’s worse than simply resembling my father – it’s all that except that I have my mother’s eyes.”

Facilier whistled. “No wonder you don’t get along.”

“I’m not a tragic reminder of her love and beauty. I’m not an heir that perfectly replicates the _genius_ ,” Luxord muttered, “and charisma that he had. He never let me into his little club of apprentices. Zexion was the son he really wanted – and that’s fine. I wasn’t cut from such fine cloth as him.”

It was fine, Luxord said, but his tone and his eyes said it wasn’t. Facilier had found the one crack in Luxord’s mask of perfect calm and shoved a knife into it.

“For someone without a heart, you’re awfully bitter.”

Luxord smiled humorlessly. “I cannot feel, but I remember. When I was truly alive, I did not allow myself to hate him – what son hates his father? It’s only without a heart that I can look at the facts objectively. He was never cruel, but it’s difficult to be cruel to a toy you’ve discarded for something more exciting.”

Facilier flinched.

“Why the reaction? You’ve no doubt met less that decent parents before,” Luxord said.

“Yes, but a toy? You’re,” Facilier gestured, “so much more! You’re smarter than anyone in town, and you’re good with kids, and you’re funny!”

“A toy good for babysitting,” Luxord amended, “but still a toy.” Fire lit behind his eyes. “I’m a bad son and I’m glad the Heartless killed him. I’m glad my other parents survived, even if it is this Nobody half-life.” And then the fire went out, and the tension bled from his body. “It felt good to say that.”

“If you’ve been holding it in for ten years, no wonder,” Facilier said. He slotted that information in place with the other nuggets he’d hoarded from Luxord, and felt the edges of the puzzle snap into place.

Young nobleman with a neglectful father and a drama-filled family worked hard to try and please them until tragedy struck. And now, with the father dead, he eked out a living with the survivors, thirsty enough for their affection that he’d kill or die to earn it. Alone, or around Facilier, he was confident in his skills; around his family, he was the idiot, the black sheep, so twisted up in what he’d been taught that he didn’t realize he was smarter than them. ( He had to be – Luxord was naïve in some ways, but Facilier could not imagine someone more intelligent than him. )

He had left home and lived with a merchant and the Disnets the year before everything went south. ( And perhaps that explained his rage towards Mickey Mouse; a stinging refusal to help coming from a friend turned it into a knife between the ribs. )  But the segment between the fall of Radiant Garden and Luxord in the Organization now was missing. What had happened in between then? He’d talked about refugees of the Heartless – had Luxord been one of them? What had made Luxord decide to give his family another chance?

Also. He’d found the identities of most the family Luxord had mentioned: father Ansem; older brother Xigbar; younger brother Zexion; step-father Vexen; step father’s husband Lexaeus; dead sister Kairi; dead grandmother, name unknown. But that left the beautiful fiancé that Ansem had left Vexen for. Who were they, and were they still alive?

It wouldn’t do to push now. Luxord had come to celebrate a win, not get his personal life wheedled out of him. It would be cheating to find out like this. He’d wait until Luxord’s head was back in the game and _then_ wheedle the details out of him.

“I’m sorry,” Luxord said.

“What? You’re sorry?” Facilier scoffed. “I just ruined your victory celebration!”

“But what kind of victory is it if we cannot celebrate it together?”

“You’re a sap. A mushy sap.” Facilier petted the strip of bare skin over Luxord’s glove. “We can celebrate other things, like you not getting killed like an idiot.”

“That’s something good to celebrate,” Luxord murmured. He licked his lips. “Do you smell something burning?”

Facilier jumped off the chair. “The sausages!”

* * *

 

The sausages were burned, but they still tasted good. Luxord ate four plates and Facilier two, and then Facilier invited Luxord to his bed to cuddle.

Luxord lay down on Facilier’s lap and wrapped his arms around him. “This is the best possible prize I could obtain from this victory.”

“Good.” Facilier ruffled Luxord’s hair. “This is really all you want? Hugging me?”

“I like hugging you.”

 **How cute,** said the mask known as the Murderess. Her painted smile canted cruel as she floated into the room.

“If I give you a giant invisible heartless for your weekly meal,” Luxord growled, “will you go away?”

 **Fine** , said the mask. **Far be it from me to interrupt such a sentimental little tete a tete between living corpses.**

Luxord sat up, and the shift from sweetly smiling to rage happened in the blink of Facilier’s eyes. “I’ve promised not to kill you, but I think the Bull would understand if I had to inflict a little damage after that, wouldn’t they? Fira.” A flex of his hand and fire sprung from between his fingerprints

**You wouldn’t.**

Luxord stood, took three slow steps, then rushed forward in a blur. The Murderess shrieked and zipped down the stairs, her eyebrows smoldering, and Facilier could hear the ghostly laughter of the other Friends. “You won that round.”

Luxord turned. “You don’t mind the, ah…?” He flexed and made the flames disappear.

“I don’t want to hear about someone getting crushed on the road. However, rushing to my defense and setting animate objects on fire is fine with me,” Facilier said. He patted his lap. “Come back, Luxord.”

Luxord did, resting his forehead against Facilier’s shoulder. “I like you.”

“I like you too,” Facilier replied. It was little kid phrasing, but it was true. He liked Luxord more than anyone on this world or any other.


	16. Day -85: Traverse Town (Again)

_We are looking for the Gambler who did the accounts at Castle Oblivion,_ the Ninja said. Her slit-mouth glittered knifish teeth. _We have more files for her_.

“I told you, she’s not in right now,” Luxord said. “Stop stalking around my accounting department, will you? I’ll let you know when she gets back from her shift trading at Traverse Town.”

 _Riiiight,_ the Ninja said. _We’ll be back_. She turned and floated away; light glimmered off her spine as if she were a giant, metallic eel. Which she more or less was.

The Gamblers who ran the Accounting Department That Equated To Zero’s front desk gave Luxord worried looks. _That’s the fifth time this week._

“Larxene’s got all the subtlety of a stab in the gut,” Luxord said. “I’ll get them to stop tomorrow.”

_Thank you, liege!_

* * *

 

He hadn’t sent the Gambler to Traverse Town. He’d sent her to Port au Prince, a world near the border of the Quarantine and Bayou Boulevard in particular. It was a tropical world where the only thing hotter than the temperature was the food, where the ports were crowded with wooden boats and rainbow-shaded gummi ships, and the only thing that outnumbered the streets were the traders.

Luxord imported quite a lot of smuggled Quarantine materials out of there. It was a simple enough task to smuggle a Gambler in.

_This hut is most cozy, liege, and I appreciate the swiftness of your response to Marluxia and Larxene’s harassment, but can I really obtain the materials you desire without showing my face?_

Luxord bowed to his gambler and opened up a wardrobe of heavy robes. “I’m sure you can think of something with the disguises I have collected.”

 _I will make sure I fulfill your faith in me._ She bowed back to him.

“Contact me if there’s an issue,” Luxord said. “The data you brought from Castle Oblivion is incredibly helpful. It would be disrespectful not to repay you for the risk you took collecting it.”

_Thank you, liege!_

* * *

 

“Didn’t you hear about the giant Heartless in Traverse Town?” Luxord told the visiting Ninjas the next day. “She got in the way.”

 _I suppose it can’t be helped_ , the Ninja said, but her smile grew wider. _Thank you for your assistance._

Thank you for being so obvious, Luxord thought as the Ninja flew away. It would take time to decipher all the irregularities in Castle Oblivion’s budget, but he could tell something was off already. The way two of the Gamblers he’d sent had been murdered during Mickey's incursion proved it.

Marluxia and Larxene would regret harming Luxord’s Gamblers. They were his people, his cards, and he liked having a full deck.


	17. Day -78: Agrabah

There were many wonderful things about Agrabah. Luxord loved the libraries there; when he was whole, he had visited to join in the new mathematical discourses that took place in halls decorated with geometric paintings that faceted together like the light from a thousand prisms. New theorems that knit angles together like spiderwebs; formulas that smoothed waterfall into parabola into line; expansions on Ibn Al Haytham’s research that transfigured unruly ice and earth into the trustworthy and solid realm of numbers; ancient tablets from ruins older than stone translated thrice over, Babylonian to Arabic, Chinese, Nahuatl.

Luxord and Xigbar had agreed that before they went to spy on the keybearer, they’d hit up the libraries for books they couldn’t get on the World that Never Was. They were now going through their loot on the roof of a building overlooking the palace. Maleficent’s lackey Jafar lived there, which meant that Sora would have to show up sooner or later.

“I’m in love with this article on quasicrystalline structures in quantum physics,” Xigbar said. His one eye darted from line to line as he devoured the text. “What’d you pick out?”

“Mathematics, astronomy and taxonomy of medicinal plants, among other things,” Luxord said. He hadn’t moved from the edge of the roof since they’d made their daring escape, magic mirror clutched in his hand. “I’m picking up an increase in ambient darkness on the darkness measuring app. The keybearer should appear soon.”

“Relaaax. A watched pot never boils. We’ll know when Sora shows up because there will be lots of screaming and Heartless noises.” Xigbar turned a crinkly page. “That kid has the subtlety of a brick. Broke quarantine on Deep Jungle _and_ Wonderland, then used a summon materia to toss a lion at Maleficent’s Heartless general. He’s got a moogle puff bigger than the sun!”

“A wild card can become the highest and the lowest in the deck. I haven’t seen him in action before. I want to watch,” Luxord said. “I’ll have time to read later. We’ll have to discard our hands before we return to castle, anyway. Xemnas doesn’t allow outside reading material.”

“All the better to read it now, before you have to ditch it.”

“I’ll get to it,” Luxord said.

* * *

 

“I’ve spotted the keybearer,” Luxord said an hour later, and doused himself with a water spell. For all of Agrabah’s wonderful libraries, the dry heat was turning his leather coat into a personal oven. “He’s got Court Magician Donald Duck and Head Knight Sir Goofy with him, as usual. One of the locals too. They must have hired a guide.”

“He’s here!” Xigbar snapped his physics magazine shut and rushed to the edge of the roof. “Look at his keyblade – he must have upgraded it on Deep Jungle!”

Luxord tabbed on the filming application on his magic mirror and held it up to follow Sora and his allies down the street. “Zexion will want to see this – especially if the boy can get Jafar to reveal some of his magic.”

“Do you still have light and darkness readings up?”

“Of course. Zexion should get some excellent readings off of this. Come on.”

They followed Sora via the rooftop to the palace gates, where Jafar awaited with –

“That’s Princess Jasmine,” Luxord said. “I heard she was officially designated a princess of light last year.”

“No shit, Edogawa.” Xigbar bopped Luxord lightly on the head. “Malificent’s been collecting them for years; that’s why I’ve had spies stationed here for a year and a half.”

“I know that! But what’s she doing outside the palace? Shouldn’t she be under heavy guard?”

“Not if Jafar’s kidnapping her.” Xigbar pulled out his magic mirror. “I’m going to take a closer look. Keep filming.” He opened a dark portal and walked into it.

Luxord kept filming as the keybearer and Jafar argued, as Jafar gestured to the stack of jars he’d brought, as he dumped Jasmine into a jar, and then the jars oozed the oilslick black of the Heartless…

* * *

 

“I couldn’t get a good picture of it on film, so you’ll have to do with the photos,” Luxord said, and handed his magic mirror to Facilier. “We haven’t named it yet, but I want to call it the Centipotle.”

Facilier flipped through the photo album. “A bunch of pots joined together like a centipede. Cute.”  Most of them were blurry with motion, but Luxord had caught a few good shots of the beast: at least twenty feet from head to tail, with a centipede’s ugly grey face and large red jars making up the spine.

“It is.” Luxord stripped out of his leather coat and pants, then the padded cloth armor underneath; he folded them neatly, then sat in Facilier’s bathtub in his underwear and undershirt. Sweat had soaked through his clothing and beaded on his face like dew. Facilier sat on the floor next to him while Luxord cranked up the water and filled the tub with cool water, then used magic to add ice to it. Tension drained from his face. “That feels so good.”

“You shouldn’t wear black leather in the desert. You’re going to overheat.”  Facilier handed Luxord his phone back. “Why isn’t there anyone in the street? I thought you said this was a capital city on this world.”

“It is, but the Heartless have trouble crossing thresholds – doors and windows and such. Much like the undead, they can only come in if invited or they’ll take damage.”

“Convenient. So everyone’s traveling between buildings rather than going into the roads?”

“More or less. You see it on every world the Heartless come to. You stay indoors or in the air or you’ll be devoured.”

“What happens when someone rides a car?”

Luxord grimaced. “You’re safe until the car runs out of fuel. Then it’s a matter of how long it takes for the Heartless to get inside; then you get a Heartless with a hard steel shell. I loathe fighting those.”

Facilier shuddered. “Amen. I’m loathing them myself already.”

“They are terrible to fight. Their shell is difficult to penetrate, they’re fast, and they’re aggressive. That’s why we send Xigbar to fight them – he can snipe them to death before they get close to him. Blizzard.” More ice feathered into Luxord’s bath, and he melted into it.

“It’s good to see you and all, but don’t you have a bathtub at your castle?”

“It doesn’t have the atmosphere this place has.”

Facilier was careful not to watch how the water made Luxord’s thin shirt stick to his skin, or how his nipples were dark and hard underneath it. “Perks of the job, I suppose.”

“I can increase your pay this week if you wish. Your Friends should enjoy what I brought them – a piece of the Centipotle and a Black Mushroom.”

“I could hear them cheering from up here. Whatever it is you gave them, they liked it.”

“They’re boss-class Heartless. No match for all seven Friends, but they gave the keybearer a run for his money.” Luxord pressed his face against the cool tile. “They won’t for long. He’s getting stronger quickly. What he’s done in a few weeks took me years to accomplish.”

“How old were you when you started?”

“Four or five?”

Facilier squinted. “What? Don’t you mean fourteen or five-teen?”

Luxord gave Facilier a wan smile. “You start teaching children how to do math and to read young, don’t you? It’s the same with magic and fighting. Cast Cure on a scraped knee, or use Fire or Spark to make a light in the dark. Learn how to read surroundings for people hiding and how to climb fences and hang onto cliffs.”

“Isn’t that kind of intense for a five year old?”

“Not really. Children like having something to do, and if you set it up as playing, then they practice on their own.” Luxord mimics clinging to the side of a cliff on the side of the bathtub. “My condition meant that I’d never have my brother’s stamina, but it’s served me well in learning combat magic. A noble should keep an eye out for assassins, even if they are rare, and it’s good for emergencies such as the Heartless.”

“I could understand that kind of melodramatic prep after the Heartless,” Facilier said, “But not before.”

Luxord sank into the bath. “Ansem was not a great parent, but I believe he meant well in this. He just wanted us to be strong.”

And the road to hell is paved with good intentions, Facilier thought, but he did not say it. For all that Luxord said that he had disowned his family, he toiled daily for the survivors. He missed whatever he had had once; why else would he hang around Facilier’s family otherwise?

It would be cruel to point it out here and now. Perhaps when Luxord’s Organization had reason to disband would be the best time –

“I brought you some books,” Luxord said, interrupting Facilier’s train of thought with a guileless smile and a gesture to his coat. “Or, rather, I brought me books and you books, and I’d like you to keep my books with yours for a while. I don’t want them getting ruined in a prank gone wrong.”

That was suspicious. That smile meant nothing but lies when it graced Luxord’s face. But why would Luxord have to lie about not keeping books around?

“Well, let’s see them.” Facilier grabbed the bag Luxord had brought in and pulled them out.

 _An Encyclopedia of Medicinal Plants and their Preparations. Astronomy of the Known Universe. Scheherazade’s One Thousand and One Nights_. And… “This one isn’t in English. What is it?”

“That’s _Translations of and Commentary on Larsan Text Concerning Babylonian Trigonometry,_ which is, well, a translation of a stone tablet from the lost city of Larsa. It’s said to predate the Keyblade Wars by three millennia. It was donated to the Zubaidah bint Ja`far Museum 40 years ago, and it’s been the talk of the academic world since then. This new edition has been translated into multiple languages - the world of Agrabah is a major city of trade, selling between self-quarantined worlds in the Silk Sea to the Corridor of Light and the Great Guardians. They’ve also gotten a taste for Disnet fashions.” Luxord shook his head. “I personally don’t like those skimpy styles, but everyone is different. Anyway, that’s why your books are all in English - popular volumes are often translated into the lingua franca of different regions of space to be traded into them – and mine is in Arabic. I’d rather have the edition that’s been translated once than twice – you should have seen the version I got 20 years ago translated from Arabic to Chinese, then Skenix…”

Facilier’s head was spinning to keep up with Luxord’s rambling, but one thing stood out. “What’s a lingua franca?”

“It’s like a trade language that people who originally speak other languages use. Like…the trade languages Agrabah translates books into are Disnet, Berber, Latin, Persian and Manderin Chinese, because those are the common languages of traders there. If I went to Eagle’s Lakeside Kingdom, they’d translate from Nahuatl to Disnet, Quechua, Choctaw and– am I losing you?”

“You lost me. But I think I understand. It’s like how Creole kind of happened when all the slaves only had their own languages and French, and mixed them together to make something they could all speak.” Facilier waved his hand. “And you know most of the trade languages because a lord’s son has to be able to talk to diplomats.”

“Very astute. You are correct.” Luxord grinned. “Now, I got you the book on plants because I thought it would help your trade, and I can bring plants that aren’t native to New Orleans here if you give me a few weeks’ advance notice. Astronomy will help you get up to speed on the geography of the known universe. One Thousand and One Nights was one of my favorite books as a child – this one is abridged to keep some of the more, ah, adult parts out, so you could read it to Boni if you wanted. It’s not very authentic to the world but it’s a very popular tourist item.”

“Definitely a diplomat’s choices.” Facilier picked up a book and flipped through it. Realistic illustrations of flowers danced through the pages. “These will come in handy. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Luxord rested his head on his hands on the edge of the bathtub. “Go look for Jasminium Sambac.”

“Jasmine flowers, right? Like, perhaps, a certain little sister?” Facilier paged through the book.

“There’s several species of jasmine, but I like that one the best,” Luxord said with a guileless smile. “They had to grow it in greenhouses on Radiant Garden because you can’t grow tropical plants in a city near glaciers, but it’s used to make tea…”


	18. Day -69: Monstro

Summer had come to New Orleans, and with her the unending sun, as if the season had batted away the clouds so that she could press her hot, sweaty palm on the city and left them all to bake. It was almost to humid for clothes to dry - Facilier was certainly the only fool he could see hanging up clothes - but he didn't want to take a chance with the Fire materia Luxord had left with him, so there he was, hanging clothes bit by bit and hoping the heat would beat out the humidity.

Then the air turned metallic and thick, humid, and static made the hair on his arms stand on end. As if a thunderstorm were coming. He looked up; there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Facilier put a clothespin in his mouth and peered around the roof; unnatural changes in smell and atmosphere meant something strange was at work, and he didn’t plan to be caught unawares.

On the far end of his roof was a charred circle - one that didn't scrub away no matter what he tried - and now it sprang alive in disc of black flame. It cast shadows on the roof that even the brightness of the noon sun couldn't banish, and Facilier stepped back. One hand clutched his cane and the other his dogtooth necklace, ready to call the Friends at a second's notice; something like that had to be coming from something powerful - huge, terrible –

A black hooded figure stumbled out, the flames parting around him as if they were mere reeds. Fine black sand spilled around his boots as the portal went out, and Facilier relaxed. “Hell of a way to make an entrance, white boy.”

“Thanks,” Luxord wheezed, and he pulled down his hood. The bags under his eyes were almost as big as the bag slung over his shoulder.

“You don’t look like you got any sleep last night. Did you run here?” Facilier offered his hand but Luxord shook it off, staggering into a sitting position.

“I may have.” Luxord flopped onto his back. Facilier took the clothespin out of his mouth, clipped a vest to the clothesline, and sat next to him. “It’s a disaster. This is a business call. Also, I brought space candy.” He patted the bag he’d brought with him.

Facilier burrowed through it. “What are all these? And this…”

Luxord tapped a plain wooden box. “Those are candied dates from Agrabah.” Then a velvety circular box. “These are chocolate caramels from El Mundo de la Vida.” He pointed at a hand-sized clear bell-shaped container full of bluebell shaped candies.  “I ordered these imported from the United Galactic Federation – where _real_ aliens live. They only arrived this week because they’re, ah, slightly druglike to humans. They’re sour and vaguely berry flavored – each one will give you a little mood boost that lasts for about an hour. Don’t eat more than one at a time or you’ll get a migraine once the high goes down. And these,” and he gestured to a large paper sack, “are taiyaki, which were popular at home.”

“You got me drugs and,” Facilier opened the paper sack, “fish pastries.”

“Fish shaped pastries with anko! And magic candies!”

“What’s anko?” Facilier took out a hand-sized pastry and tested the bready dough with one finger. “Actually, I’ll find out for myself.” He took a bite and hummed.

Luxord grinned. “Good?”

“Good.” The bread was soft, mellow and pliant; the filling (anko?) was earthy and not overly sweet – something that would appeal to an adult, rather than a child like Boni. It was the kind of dessert that would fill you up for the rest of the day.

“And they’re not drugs. It’s Hyper magic. It was originally designed as a spell to make it easier to use special attacks, but you’re liable to get damaging side effects if you keep Hyper up too long, so the candies – I’m getting off topic.” Luxord rubbed his face. “I need your help.”

 “Spill,” Facilier said simply, taking another bite.

Luxord took a shuddering breath. “We lost the keybearer. His ship was traveling through an area of space we didn’t have people at – no asteroids for ships to be parked on, no convenient hidden places to hide – and it hasn’t shown back up. There’s no inhabited planets there, not even floating rocks to park the ship on – so where did he go?"

Facilier winced. “Ouch. You’ve said your team can scry – has anyone tried?”

“Demyx has confirmed the keybearer and his companions are alive. Saix cannot scry without the moon, and that will require travel to another world and several hours of patience. I've sent my Gamblers orders to leave Agrabah and search the paths to Atlantica instead, but my cards aren't showing me the answers I need."

“What’s Atlantica?”

“Mermaid planet, one of the Great Guardians that borders the Quarantine Zone. It’s the closest one to this world, Bayou Boulevard, but…” Luxord rubbed his face. "King Triton is more tight fisted with security than the masters of a casino are with their chips, and his world is under water. If Sora lands there, keeping an eye on him is going to be difficult - we'll need to find an entry point that's unguarded and close enough to the surface that we can venture through without being killed. Deep sea portal will crush you as a booted heel crushes the unfortunate ant underfoot. But even that would be preferable to losing him - "

"You aren't worried about breathing?" Facilier interrupted, strategic. Luxord was anxious, never mind what he'd say about his lack of feelings, and given the opportunity he'd never shut his trap. “You’re not worried about water breathing?”

"Demyx's magic will ensure a solution," Luxord answered, automatic. "He's a fairy - of the old variety, not the jesters in Boni's storybooks. He knows more of magic than the three of us put together."

"If he's so smart, why doesn't he lead the Organization?"

"He's young for a fairy; a rich lord's son who holds sway through illusions and charisma, not necessarily the breadth of his knowledge or the strength of his curiosity. Demyx knows what he does because he's older than all of us, with the political pull to draw against other enemies, not because he is wise. And even if he were, he'd need to be as strong as he was smart to lead the Organization and he's not. Especially when it comes to fighting."

"If he's got folks waiting for his voice, why doesn't he just call them now?"

"Pulling on too often or for too much would draw the attention of his father, and he'd never do something so drastic over a matter as -well, not immediately fatal as this. Demyx doesn't feel ready to, ah, 'take over the fiefdom', as it were and summoning the Goblin King's aid would require he bend on the matter - it is the, ah, 'nuclear option', I believe is the slang."

Facilier shook his head. “Dunno what a nuclear is.”

“Terrible science magic from the innermost reaches of the Quarantine. A plague-bomb more deadly than smallpox.”

“Worse than smallpox? How?”

Luxord grimaced. “I don’t understand the science behind it very well, but it’s like…if light and darkness are what take apart the soul, nuclear is what takes apart the physical body. It lingers for years afterwards, without the personal vengeance of a ghost – it sickens all who linger in its aura, both the virtuous and the wicked. It’s as impersonal as it is deadly.”

Facilier shook his head and made the sign of the cross. It seemed the thing to do at the thought of such a cruel sickness.

“Indeed,” Luxord agreed, making a triangle with his fingers. “Even we, the Organization, have only dared to go into the second ring of the Quarantine. My father Ansem went to the third and came back with a…a haunted magic mirror, you’d call it, that you could create any image within and then create it in reality. They say the nuclear magic lays within the fifth ring and beyond… But I’ve gone off track once again.” Luxord sat up. “Can you tell my fortune? If anyone can find a clue to Sora’s location, it’s you.”

“Yeah. Let’s go downstairs. Do you do tarot?”

Luxord softened. “Since I was a boy. The Time Witch has blessed my cards with accuracy and wisdom, but they’ve had no luck finding Sora.”

Facilier stood, leaning heavily on his cane. “Who or what is a Time Witch?”

Luxord packed up the candy and followed, making a triangle with his fingers. “Ah! I suppose I’ve never explained. The three goddesses of my religion are Celes of the Phoenix, Eiko First and Last, and Ultimecia the Time-Witch.”

Facilier stopped, stared, squinted at Luxord. “What kind of gods are those?”

“The Magus Triad? The new goddesses of magic?”

“Magic has gods? Magic has goddesses?? Witch goddesses???” Facilier raised his eyebrows. “A witch god sounds like something out of a movie. It just needs some voodoo dolls and dark magic thrown in to spice it up.”

Luxord shook his head emphatically and opened up the trap door. “Oh, no! The darkness god is Chaos-once-Garland. Completely different religion, reactionary splinter from the Church of Light. And ‘witch’ doesn’t carry much negative baggage where I’m from. Ultimecia’s improved from her origins as the Time Kompressor since she was installed to repair the flow of time after the Keyblade Wars, and -”

“Luxord, stop, I can only follow so much!” Facilier laughed. “Witches not bad in space, got it. Like how magic is good in space.”

“Magic itself is neither good nor bad. Magic simply is. It’s responsible use of magic (as sanctioned by the gods) which is good. It’s not the same as your Baron, the kindly king who ferries the dead to the afterlife and blesses the born, whose workings are innately good,” Luxord said, and helped Facilier off the ladder.

“I – excuse me – innately good?” Facilier stumbled, and Luxord steadied him. “That’s usually the opposite of the reaction we get! The Baron loves drink and cigars and debauchery and gambling and – and thank you. I guess.” Facilier’s breath caught as Luxord held him against his chest. “The Baron usually gets written off as wicked by the Christians and white folk. He loves the pleasures of living, and he loves the living – he makes sure everyone gets their allotted lives and don’t die before their times. He is good, like Bonye is good.”

The ends of Luxord’s mouth slowly turned up. “Are you saying that he’s the _life_ of the party?”

Facilier groaned. “You completely killed the mood!”

“What mood?”

“The mood!” Facilier tapped his cane against the stairs as they walked down to his shop. “Nevermind. For all that you’re a genius magician, you haven’t got a clue.”

“I’ve told you before, I’m the idiot child of the family,” Luxord said. “If I may ask – are there any vows or precepts you have to partake in as a worshipper? I’ve not seen you drink, smoke, or debauch.”

And the mood was back. Facilier was glad his skin was so dark – it’d be hard to see a blush on it. “I’m not a proper voudouist anymore, so no, I don’t have to do anything. Besides, you need money to drink and smoke, and I’ve never seen the point of debauchery. It’s messy and sweaty and you might end up with 18 years of responsibility and cleaning up vomit and shit.”

“Very reasonable. So much fuss for so little benefit,” Luxord said. “I feel the same.”

“You do?” That was – promising and not promising all at the same time. As much as Luxord was handsome, with eyes that lit up when Facilier spoke and gentle fingers – as much as Facilier found his thoughts wandering to the scars he kept hidden under his leather – the idea of doing more than touching scared more than excited him. It was Luxord’s words that drew Facilier to him, not his doll-perfect body.

“So then, Luxord: do you have no interest at all?”

“None,” Luxord said without hesitation. “Truly, my vow of chastity is against gambling rather than carnal deeds – it’s not much of a challenge to give up what I never desired. But it’s a useful way to dissuade others who do want such things.”

**Hahahahahaha!**

Facilier shuddered as two of the Friend masks unhooked themselves from the wall and floated towards them.

 **We couldn’t help but overhear,** said the Murderess. Her blood red lips pursed in amusement. **What incredible luck. You’ve managed to find a eunuch in this modern age!**

“Would you – he’s here for a job!” Facilier batted her away, trying to avoid the other one. “Let me get to the table so I can do a reading. “And it’s none of your business! I know what kinds of things you did for fun!”

“Besides, eunuchs were trusted bodyguards,” Luxord added. “That’s practically a compliment. Do catch up.”

One of the masks, never before awake in Luxord's presence, leered from just behind Murderess. It had the kind of face that, Facilier had always thought, would have made him a disgustingly handsome white man in life. Now, though, the mask accentuated the ugly way his mouth turned up and his eyes squinted when he found someone to annoy. Among other things.

**What, all that build-up and no follow-through?  I'd say you owe us a few details...**

Luxord pulled a giant metal playing card out of his sleeve and used it to bat the offending mask into the wall. Murderess’s wooden eyeholes went huge, and she backed away as Luxord and Facilier sat at Facilier’s table.

“Thank you. I hate that one,” Facilier said.

“What do you call him?”

“Euphemisms,” Facilier said.

“Oh,” Luxord said, and grimaced. “I didn’t think we could find one more annoying that the Murderess.”

“And yet,” Facilier said with a sigh. “Let’s get to work before they come back.”  He took out his own deck of Tarot Cards out of their protective wooden box – they cost more than most of what he kept in the shop, after all – and shuffled.

He knew that some people prayed to gods to get their cards to give results. Facilier didn’t. One, he figured it was a waste of time for the lwa to help him divine the future, especially when he could only barely be considered a practitioner as it was. Two, his grannie Odie had been known as having Sight when she was young and still had her eyes in their sockets; even now, when they usually stayed floating in a jar, Odie was said to see things no one else could. Facilier’s father, when he was still around, had had a knack for knowing when someone was going to die a few weeks before it happened.

Facilier didn’t need to call on outside help when he had the blood of a line of seers in his veins.

“The cards, the cards, the cards will tell: the past, the present and the future as well,” he sang, and he spread the shuffled deck in front of him in an arc. “The cards, the cards: just take three. Take a peek at where your keybearer will be.”

Luxord closed his eyes. “Fithos lusec wecos vinosec,” he murmured, and his trembling hand pulled three cards from the deck.

Facilier flipped them. “The Page of Cups. The Three of Wands. Temperance, reversed.”

Luxord opened one blue eye and peered down. “An emotional and empathic young man who is enjoying hard earned success through good leadership and virtue and is going to separate two things that were previously conjoined. I knew this before, Facilier.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Facilier tsked. “That’s not what I see. I see a young man who stands before the ocean with a fish, an old man in front of the ocean, and water pouring.” He tapped the cards. “Each of these cards has water in their pictures. The cards are saying your young man is in an ocean.”

“He’s not in Atlantica,” Luxord said. “I already checked.”

“Didn’t you say that one of the areas in space is called the Silk Sea?” Facilier countered.

“Agrabah’s near the border of the Silk Sea and the Great Guardians,” Luxord said. “At least Sora was - Wait.” Luxord leaned in.

Facilier grinned. “You noticed the cards move, did you? It’s my own little talent.”

“It’s incredible,” Luxord breathed. “The fish on the Page of Cup’s cup is moving, and there’s a whale emerging from the sea in the Three of Wands, and thre’s…a whale in Temperance’s water….”

“You’ve realized something.”

“A whale. A whale! I know where Sora is!” Luxord shot up. “That bastard Triton summoned a giant space whale to guard his world years ago! He said he lost it, but with the Heartless around he’s got plenty of motive to revive it! It’s big enough to transport a few thousand people in an emergency, it could eat a three-person spaceship easily!”

Facilier gaped. “I’ve never heard you swear before and what the hell is a space whale?”

“Magic – summoning – magobiology isn’t my specialty so I don’t know what kind of monster it is. I just know that King Triton’s an ass who won’t let refugees into his kingdom unless they walk there and he deals himself hands with five aces regularly!” Luxord grappled with the air.

Oh, Facilier thought. When Luxord’s homeworld fell, they became refugees, and they looked for a new place to live, Triton must have turned them away. But how did you walk into an ocean world?

( “Lazare, your father walked into the ocean.” )

He shook his head. “You must remember getting angry with him pretty easy to mimic it like this.”

“King Triton needs to pull his head out of his scaly cloaca,” Luxord muttered, and gripped the chair. “His refusal to keep his world open despite being on a major trade route means that the shallows of his world are host to a thriving black market, which means every poacher and smuggler is trying to get in, which means that anyone with half a brain can get through Atlantica and into the Quarantine! Which is supposed to be not broken!”

“You’re here,” Facilier pointed out.

“Yes, because I went through Atlantica to Port Royale or Port au Prince to here instead bribing Yzma at The Kingdom of the Sun and taking the long route up here. I am proof his all or nothing obsession doesn’t work.” Luxord started pacing. “His plans don’t work! And he does it to his children and we’re all just waiting for one of them to snap and kill him or defect to Port au Prince because he’s a miserable stuck up King of <Cups> who let power go to his head!”

“Where we is?”

“Half the diplomatic community in the Corridor of Light. And my Organization.” Luxord huffed. “He’s been around since I was a child and was railing at my father for serving fish at a diplomatic meeting. Radiant Garden’s capital was on an island in the middle of a bay with soil that could only sustain plant life over two inches after years of shoving nutrients into it, so fish was the most sustainable animal we could eat! And we checked that they weren’t sentient before we ate them!”

“This is an old grudge, then.” Facilier grinned. It was funny, watching Luxord with a modicum of rage in him. He was so calm, normally – and that was good! Facilier had enough with angry white men in his day to day life, he didn’t need white-passing Luxord getting angry too! But watching Luxord get mad at what sounded like some stuck up king was pretty delicious.

“He’s an ass. He was an ass, he is an ass, he will be an ass. Triton, verb: to ass.” Luxord posed as if holding some great scepter. “I’m afraid no refugee can come here without swimming from another world, otherwise I cannot know their genuine desire to become part of our community. I don’t care that there’s a good deal of people who are physically incapable of swimming with you, I’ve laid out the rules. Music is also illegal here because a music box killed my wife and I heard you humming so get out.” He pointed dramatically. “I love to yell at my children for minor offenses!”

“Did he really ban music?”

“Until last year, yes. There’s ships in Port au Prince with tiny concert halls on them that they set up for wandering mermaids. Very, very illegal, very wrong. Demyx made us a minor fortune playing there.” Luxord took out two playing card traps and set them on the table. “Bull, are you awake?”

The bull faced mask shook themself off the wall and floated down, eyes flitting open. **Awake enough. What is it, nothing man?**

“This is your heartless set and payment for today,” Luxord said, tapping the one card set. “An orchestra of Heartless – Red Nocturnes, Blue Rhapsodies, Yellow Operas and Green Requiums. They’re bell shaped creatures who cast magic. I think you’ll enjoy them. This,” he said, tapping the other one, “is a White Mushroom, and my payment for today. Take the hearts in this one off Facilier’s tab.”

Facilier sucked in breath. Bull’s mouth made an o. **Such a payment….**

“He’s saved my metaphorical ham,” Luxord said. “Divination is a difficult skill to master. If he’s correct, I’ll save weeks of time on a time sensitive mission.” He bowed to both Facilier and Bull. “I have to go. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“The fourth!” Facilier blurted.

Luxord froze.

“July fourth. My family – there’s a block party that Annette and Melvin host. On July fourth,” Facilier said, his heart pounding. “They invited me this year. But. It’s not much fun going to a party alone.”

Luxord’s pale cheeks slowly colored. “I – would greatly enjoy that. I’ll see if I can get the day off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to chuplayswithfire, ibenholt and skullopendra for helping me beta this!


	19. Day -56: Atlantica

Xemnas only gave days off if you were too injured to move or on Christmas, where he’d secret himself and Xigbar or Xaldin in his room all day. It was a lover’s holiday, after all, and even the Superior –

Luxord would not finish that thought. Luxord had no need for pleasures of the flesh; he’d cleaved himself from his own wants long ago. All he needed was a deck of cards and, once a week, Facilier.

Which meant that he only had a few weeks to arrange someone to cover for his two days off and to prepare for the party.

* * *

 

Where Nothing Gathers: the circular room where the Organization gathered for meetings.  Nobodies in black cloaks sat in a circle of towering white chairs.

“Superior,” Zexion said, “Luxord’s information was correct. Sora is on the aquatic construct known as Monstro.”

“It’s going to take forever to get a portal site on there, but we’ll manage,” Xigbar said.

“My fleet will find Monstro,” Xaldin rasped. There was a smear of oil on his face from working on his personal gummi ship. “Nothing can hide from me for long.”

“Excellent,” Xemnas intoned. His perfect lips quirked up. “Luxord, you will help Demyx prepare spies on Atlantica for Sora’s arrival and work on breeching Triton’s world security. The more heartless we can flood the seas with, the more hearts we will obtain.”

“Yes, Superior.” And serve Triton right, Luxord thought as he bowed to Xemnas. To refuse entry to those in need in the name of safety only to have his world rent anyway was probably ironic, and definitely well deserved.

* * *

 

Luxord and Demyx’s dark portal took them from The World That Never Was to a rocky outcropping in the sea; around them, water ate the horizon.

“How long has it been since you changed form?” Demyx asked as he pulled a fur cloak out of his inventory. “We’re doing this with fairy magic, not Disnet, so there’s no mermaid stuff here. You’re straight up turning into a sea creature.”

“About a year, and of course,” Luxord said. He threw the cloak over his shoulders and felt his body warp together, legs merging and hair growing and torso twisting until he was not a man but a sleek behemoth seal, one of the rulers of Radiant Garden’s ice floes. “Interesting,” he said, tested out a flipper and fell into the water with all the dignity of a two-year-old falling on their face.

Demyx laughed. Luxord rolled in the water, harrumphing, as Demyx dove in and blossomed from black leather to red tendrils: growing, sinking, deeper, longer, until the great jellyfish had completely bloomed. Luxord could measure four lengths of his seal body from the crown of Demyx’s bell to the tips of his tentacles.

“Now that’s more like it,” Demyx burbled. “Now let’s go to the old dives I used to play music at and, uh, see if they have information about the Heartless.”

“I suppose,” Luxord said. “How are you talking? Jellyfish don’t have mouths.”

“You just turned into a seal and you’re surprised about this?” Demyx’s sides rippled with a laugh. “My magic can do anything I want it to!”

“So then why do you beg me to write half your reports?”

“I don’t want to write my reports!”

* * *

 

The cons of scouting out Atlantica: so much swimming. Overwarm water. Demyx spending half the missions playing music to ‘convince’ other denizens of the sea to give him information. Casting magic at aquatic Heartless without arms to aim with while trying to avoid Demyx’s stinging tentacles. Finding places to position Nobody spies because Sora could be anywhere in the ocean and Superior wanted eyes on him all the time at all the places and having eyes on the ground (as it were) would be easier than following the boy in disguise.

The pros of scouting out Atlantica: a five-minute walk to collapse into Facilier’s bed and eat gumbo. Visiting every day for half an hour before picking up Demyx dancing on the beaches of Port au Prince.

Making a guest list. Small questions to get ideas about who would attend the block party. Tallying numbers.

Triton’s detriment was Luxord’s gain. You could find anything in the markets of Port au Prince; their proximity to Atlantica and a blockade from the rest of the Quarantine meant that they were a host to half the black markets in this quadrant of space – and were rich from it. A land as vibrant as Port au Prince wouldn’t be taken down that easily.

That meant that when Luxord came out of the sea with materials dropped by the Heartless and bartered from the merfolk, there were plenty of people to trade with. Moogle shops where they’d take raw materials and turn them into magical jewelry. Blacksmiths who escaped from the inner Quarantine who could work metal into cobwebs. Jewelers who could take cheap, nonmagical gemstones and turn them into pretty items. Luxord ran the books on salvage materials anyway; who would know if he was embezzling with only careless Demyx around?

Humans were avaricious. The best way to get a human’s trust was to give them what they wanted. The Superior wanted results; Vexen and Zexion wanted obedience; Lexaeus wanted the other two kept happy; Saix wanted punctuality; Axel and Demyx wanted easy missions; and so on.

Facilier wanted oranges and safety and comfortable living. Luxord could bring him that, and more –

He’d buy the neighborhood’s love. Facilier could be quite comfortable if people would stop shunning him. Luxord had coped just fine with his family getting up in arms with Heartless and demons and all that nonsense, and they hadn’t even had a good reason to do it. From what he’d gleaned over the months, he was sure Facilier had only done it when his very life was on the line.

Luxord wouldn’t begrudge Facilier his life. That was what Luxord was fighting for, anyway: to bring the Nobodies back to full life. To revive himself and his Gamblers and his family and everyone the Heartless had destroyed.

It would be a waste to recruit Facilier into the Organization. That heart was too beautiful to lose. So Luxord would nurture it, nurture him, take Facilier to the heights of comfort at a pace that would not rouse suspicion and drown his avarice in Faciilier’s heart.

Sora came to Atlantica, eventually. (Xigbar was as glad as a Nobody could be about it; he’d spent the last two weeks smelling like half-digested fish from exploring Monstro’s guts.) Luxord’s Gamblers, transformed into clams and porpoises, watched Sora and reported as he grew a mermaid’s tail and befriended Triton’s youngest child. Luxord took over for Demyx on three days so Demyx could enjoy himself in ocean bars, singing and dancing. Luxord followed rumors of Triton’s political rival Ursula but did not pursue too far – he was here to spy, not to fight, and Ursula was not someone he wanted to cross. She was suspected to be in league with Malificent, and known to have attempted to ursurp Triton twice in the last forty years – two more attempts than any others had survived.

“I’ll let you goof off if you owe me a favor,” Luxord told Demyx. “Put it in writing that you owe me for a day off.”

“You only say that when you’re up to something,” Demyx complained, but he wrote anyway.

“Have I ever given you a poor return on favors? Two days of your work for one day of mine is a very reasonable rate, and as long as you don’t tell Saix, I won’t tell him about the two months of backlog you owe me.”

Demyx whined. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m an accountant. How lucky you are, to have someone who’s willing to trade you days off instead of telling Saix you put the mission in danger by giving your partner all the work,” Luxord said, and tucked Demyx’s finished note into his inventory. “And that I don’t blackmail you with it; I just use it to make sure you don’t sic Saix on me first.”

“No fair, no faiiiir.” Demyx said. “I’m gonna go hit up a dive, so have fun with Sora, you no fun zone man.”

“Right on, little goblin,” Luxord replied. “I’ll tell you if I see Sora crying as hard as you could cry. Now, what kind of magic spell to use?”

Demyx groaned and swam off in a tangle of tentacles. Luxord sighed and curled up to wait and watch for Sora to swim by. ( Another strange thing about Demyx’s magic: Luxord, despite being a seal, could breath underwater just fine. Luxord was no scientist, but he understood the basics of Light, Dark and Triad magic. Fairy magic was well out of his comprehension.)

Sora was short for a 14 year old. Destiny Islands was supposed to be a tropical world, and Sora looked the part: dark skin turned darker by the sun’s touch, tightly curled hair styled in thick spikes that could resist being unfurled by water, and a body lean with a swimmer’s musculature. Protective belts, bangles and earrings made him sparkle when he swam into a patch of light. A single cast of Fira (which became a traveling line of superheated water in the sea) from his keyblade could burst a jellyfish Heartless like a balloon. Thundara could pop half a dozen Heartless in a single casting.

Sora had made the jump from Fire to Fira in a month and a half. It had taken Luxord five years to do the same. Sure, Luxord had started at five and Sora at fourteen, but still. That was one hell of a jump. How quickly until Sora could cast on a higher level? Luxord had been 15 when he got to the third tier, Firaga and Blizzaga and Thundaga and so forth. He still only knew a few fourth tier spells he could cast competently without materia.

A keyblade was one of the few things that could kill a Heartless. It was also one of the few things that could kill a Nobody. Luxord was glad the boy didn’t notice his Gamblers hiding among Atlantica’s rock walls; enough time and the boy could reach the heights the Organization’s strength lived on. ‘

As for his bodyguards – Donald Duck was the same as he was in Disnet Town: a powerful spellcaster, but his temper was too hot to ration out his magic use. One short, terrible burst of magic could clear a room, but Donald would have to kill the next four with nothing but his staff and good luck. Which wouldn’t be a problem with any other enemies since Donald could hit normal enemies like a tank, but the Heartless took blows from ordinary weapons like water off a chocobo’s back. He was a dangerous opponent, one who kept Sora safe, but one that Luxord believed he could outsmart if push came to shove.

It was Goofy that Luxord feared. A knight’s shield with a paladin’s healing touch would keep Sora alive far longer than the keyblade would alone; there was nothing more deadly than a competent healer paired with a relentless weapon. Vexen had done that for Luxord’s father, once, and for Luxord as a youth; Goofy did it for Sora now.

Alone, each one could be formidable. Together, they cut swathes of safe sea into the web of Heartless that haunted Atlantica. It was no wonder the Superior wanted a close eye on him; Sora’s skills grew visibly from one day to the next. Counter, flank, block, Fira!

He did not tell Facilier this when he visited. ‘My duty is to go into an area infested with dangerous Heartless, stalk a 14 year old who’s capable of killing me if he sees me, and report his growth back to my Superior who wants to feed the child to the Heartless to get a new Organization member’? Even if Facilier found nothing morally wrong with it (which he would), it would worry him sick. Better to digress.

It was wrong. Yes, Luxord knew it. But it was the only way to create Kingdom Hearts; after sacrificing entire worlds in earlier hands, what was one more life in the pot? Everyone would come back as good as new once the Kingdom Hearts ritual was carried out. A temporary loss.

You had to bet big to win all. He’d tell the boy later, maybe, if it came to that. Thank you, Sora. He was the same age Kairi would have been if she had survived the fall of Radiant Garden. Thank you, Sora, for dying to save the universe.

Luxord shook his head. By the Triad, his thoughts were getting grim. The party was in three days, and he had all his chocobos in a row. The gifts were almost ready. He’d arranged his day off.

He doubted the party could throw anything strange his way.

* * *

 

“Now that’s Gertrude, she’s Annette’s sister in law’s aunt on her mother’s side. Her son works on a fishing boat, which is why he isn’t here, but his wife is off talking to Leanne, who as you remember is my mother’s half-nephew’s wife – ”

“Facilier. Stop.” Luxord sunk into a wicker chair and rubbed his face. The sun was bright and hot and shining in his eyes, but that wasn’t what was making his head ache. “There are too many people here and I can’t remember them all.”

Facilier crouched down next to him. He’d ditched his normal purple coat for a lightweight gold shirt; unlike Luxord, he wasn’t baking in several pounds of leather and armor. “What’s wrong? I thought you had lots of family. Your dad had three spouses, right?”

“Yes, but we still didn’t have this many people at a family reunion.” The children were screaming. The adults were talking. Sure, the World That Never Was was quiet and he was used to it, but Radiant Garden had never been quite so. Loud. Even with crowds. “It helped that two of the spouses didn’t have family in Radiant Garden other than us.”

“You’re missing out. Nothing says family like a crowd,” Facilier said with a smile. “I hope you’re prepared: Boni’s told all her cousins about your magic tricks and they’re expecting a show.”

Luxord nodded slowly. “I can do that.”

“And take off that leather. I realize it’s like your work uniform, but you’re not at work. You’re going to overheat in that.”

Luxord shook his head. “What if a passerby takes it? This coat’s worth more than anything else I have on me.”

“Yes, but not _here_. It’s just an unfashionable coat here.” Facilier waved Melvin over. “Look, we can get you something reasonable to change into, Luxord, so take it off.”

Luxord plucked at his sleeve. How long had he been since he took it off properly? Turning into a seal didn’t really count. He only removed it to bathe; otherwise he lived in the coat.

It wouldn’t hurt to remove it. Right?

* * *

 

Ten minutes later, he was in Melvin’s cramped bedroom unzipping his coat. Melvin gaped as the behemoth leather coat hit the floor with an audible thump, revealing his thick quilted armor underneath.

“I don’t remember him wearing that at Easter,” Luxord heard Melvin whisper. “Didn’t he take his coat off then?”

“He probably had it under that shirt he was wearing,” Facilier whispered back. “Sometimes he has to wrangle wildlife for his job so he wears armor.”

Luxord unlaced the side of the quilted armor and wriggled out of it. The quilting itself was made from a sturdy fabric harvested from plant monsters; it was stuffed with layers of giant spider silk, chocobo down and courl hair. It prevented the leather coat from chafing and gave him protection from blunt weapon attacks that the coat itself could not provide. It hit the floor with an even louder thump than his coat did.

“What kind of job has him rich with jewels and fighting gators?” Melvin hissed.

“Exotic animal poaching,” Luxord lied smoothly. “Where I come from, they say that gator blood can cure any illness. My employer has a heart problem, so he’s looking for any cure he can find – from religion to eating the hearts of wild beasts. It’s not a dignified job, but it supports my family.”

Facilier nodded, impressed with the lie, while Melvin pondered this. “You don’t have alligators where you come from? Or religion?”

“It was too cold for gators at home. Our Christanity is very different as well – we had some Jesuits back at Radiant Garden but the largest branch at home was the Church of Light. My grandmother was an – I think it translates to arch-bishop? Women were allowed in the clergy there and she was the highest in the country before she retired. But my superior is,” and he couldn’t help a tiny frown, “a man of science. He’ll try anything once.”

“Not much of a fan of Darwin, are you?” Melvin asked, and handed Luxord a deep purple shirt to wear over his plain undershirt. Luxord put it on, then unlaced his mythril-tipped boots and set them to the side. His leather pants required unbuttoning on both pant legs to come off of the padded armor underneath, but they both came off easily

“I’m not familiar with Darwin,” Luxord said. “I was educated to run a business, not to engage in science. That’s what my family does. I’m just the accountant when I’m not running errands.”

Melvin handed him a pair of pants that was too long on his legs and barely fit him. Luxord made do with them and pulled Melvin’s baggy shirt over his belt loops to hide how the seams strained around his hips.  “Just an accountant? If that’s all you are, I’d hate to see the rest of the family.”

“Yes, you would,” Luxord said. He peeked over at him – Melvin’s smile was fading. Perhaps he had meant that as a joke.

It wasn’t much of one. In a family of monsters and geniuses, Luxord was the littlest of both and he knew it.

“The clothes fit well enough,” Facilier cut in. “Maybe a little tight, but all that gator wrestling put some muscle on you. Melvin and I are both too skinny to loan you clothing, ain’t we?”

“You are. We’ll have to put some meat on you,” Luxord teased. “Otherwise a storm might blow you away in a single puff of wind.”

“Monsuir, hurricanes know not to bother the biggest pain in the Facilier family,” Facilier teased back.

“He is a hurricane,” Melvin added. “All hot air and bluster.”

“Leave devastation in my wake?” Facilier said.

“Sweeps people off their feet,” Luxord said.

Facilier elbowed him. “Not in front of Melvin!”

“We already know. You don’t have to hide it,” Melvin said, and draped an arm over each man.

“Know what?” Luxord said at the same time Facilier snapped: “Melvin!!”

No one explained what Melvin knew as Facilier tried to outglare his grinning cousin.

* * *

 

It was strange, running around with no armor. He felt naked without it. And it was easy to let Melvin steer him to the ‘barbeque’ for fried fish, then to a picnic table with old women and pies to greet them one by one, to Annette and her mom friends to coo over Faith Adelaide Kairi and how well she’d grown to two months.

Facilier faded into the background, little more than Luxord’s shadow. Luxord could see Facilier’s Shadow out of the corner of his eye, helping him navigate cluttered lawns and high steps, but xie kept hidden from the relatives.

“She’s already gotten so big. That’s a good sign,” Luxord said, and opened his arms. Annette recognized the invitation and gave him Faith, and he cradled the baby close to his chest. One of the earrings he’d brought was on the child’s tiny shirt. “You can already see the family resemblance.”

“How? She’s not screaming,” Facilier said, and Annette elbowed him.

“Cute as a button,” Luxord said. The baby reached up and patted his face, then felt around toward his ears. “Ah, no no, earrings are not for yanking. My sister would pull the same stunt,” he said, and leaned away from her hand. “You won’t catch me this time.”

“She’s a grabber,” Annette said. “I’ve been putting my hair up instead of straightening it because her hands go everywhere.”

“Good idea. I remember when my sister was born – she’d go after my stepfather’s hair when she had half a chance. It was in fashion to wear it long at home,” Luxord said, grinning. Once Lexaeus fed Kairi, Vexen got to burp her and try and keep her from using his long hair as a climbing handhold. “She never would hold still. She almost broke my collarbone jumping off a staircase once.”

“Broke _your_ collarbone?”

“I wasn’t going to let the three year old hit the floor,” Luxord explained. “Gran was good at watching her when her parents were at their jobs, but Kairi liked to go running. And she only jumped off stairs when she knew someone was there to catch her.”

“Then why not let her fall?” Annette asked. “Then she’d learn not to jump off the stairs.”

“She was the first girl in three generations in the family. We weren’t going to risk an accident,” Luxord said. “Besides, it’s a little early to let someone break a bone to learn a lesson, isn’t it?”

“No,” Facilier and the moms all chorused.

“This is why you have trust issues,” Luxord murmured to Facilier.

“Did writing apology letters make Zexion behave?” Facilier murmured back.

Luxord flushed. “That’s a cheap shot and you know it.”

“Translation, I’m right.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am, and if I’m right then Annette’s right and Annette’s never wrong.”

Annette smirked. “Since when did you care about my opinion?”

“That’s it, I’m stealing the baby from you barbarians,” Luxord said, and walked very slowly away.

“Luxord, get back here!”

That began a very slow chase around the block party that was composed of Luxord and Facilier sniping at each other while Annette and the moms egged him on. It only ended when Faith started crying, and Luxord gave her back to Annette so she could get some dinner.

Then Boni barreled into Luxord’s legs like a charging chocobo. “Is it magic time yet?”

It was indeed magic time. Luxord steadied himself, then let Boni lead him to the porch where she’d prepared a fold out table and her father’s bowler hat, ‘for pulling rabbits out of.’ Luxord got a few decks of cards and something more interesting to get out of a hat while Boni gathered the other children and some curious adults, then began.

It had been a few years, but card tricks were like flying a gummi ship; you never really forgot. He peppered his tricks with commentary on Radiant Garden, where neighbors competed over who could grow the biggest fruits or the brightest flowers; where the summers got as warm as New Orlean’s winters got cold; where every family kept a tame hive of bees and ate honey at every meal and took up arms when the bee-eating wasps came down from the mountains; where everyone woke up when the bells rang to work together to clear out the previous night’s snow. The king’s castle sat at the center of town, a tower to match the mountains, and you could navigate around town by seeing where you were compared to the sun and the castle. The king of hearts ruled and kept on popping up when you least expected him to see that the kingdom was doing alright, which kept on getting in the way of the poor jack of diamonds trying to do his job.

Shuffle. Pick a card, Miss Sophie. Looks like the jack of diamonds is still trying to get to work. Oh no, the card behind him is rising – it’s the king of hearts! King, I know you’re worried, but the jack of diamonds is trying his best!

Facilier watched from the back of the crowd. Luxord knew he was picking up on what the others would not: Luxord’s father Ansem as the king, Luxord as the jack. He picked information that Facilier already knew to reveal in his patter; Facilier would either feel his information had more grounding to it or pick it up a second time if he’d missed it before. A good game.

“But now it’s time for the flower growing contest.” Luxord handed the deck to Boni to shuffle, then reshuffled, slipping the king and jack out of his sleeve effortlessly so that they were on top when he finished. “And it appears there are two competitors are being looked at for the winner’s mark. Let’s see.” He flipped over the top two cards on the deck.

“The jack and the king!” someone in the audience gasped.

“Indeed. They’ve both been working on their flowers all summer. The king has grown a beautiful red and white rose inherited from his wife, while the jack has grown a blue water lotus.” Luxord took the hat and whispered a blizzard spell into it, then put it down on the table over a plate. He walked into the audience. “Who wants to see who won the contest?”

All the kids waved their hands. Luxord chose an excited four year old sitting on his mother’s lap. “Ben, can you and your mother go up to the table and pick the hat up to reveal who won the contest? Mrs. Freeman, could you hold up the plate under the hat so everyone can see it?”

They went up to the table. The little boy picked up the hat and gasped. His mother picked up the plate and showed off the lotus made of ice that had appeared on the previously empty plate.

Luxord grinned as the crowd went wild and gathered around the plate. It was technically cheating to use actual magic in a magic show, but it made for a good finale. “The jack of diamonds won,” Luxord said, and flourished his hands at the flower. He wandered into the crowd and broke off one of the ice lotus’s thin petals, then popped it into his mouth. “And everyone can share in the winner’s bounty, if they want to cool off.”

Applause! And the children descended on the flower to get a piece to chew on in the summer heat.

“Nice show,” Facilier said as Luxord  emerged from the crowd. “Was that last trick one of your special techniques?”

Luxord tapped his materia bracer and nodded. Real magic, not card tricks. “Vexen taught me that. It’s a good party trick, or if you need something to chew on while reading.”

“Mama said not to chew on ice or you’ll crack your teeth open,” Facilier said, and chomped on his ice petal. “Doesn’t seem like a trick your Organization would use. Too frilly.”

“Oh no, this was well before. Vexen was engaged to my father when I was ten, and I was leery about having another parent around the house. He ended up buying my goodwill with magic lessons, among other things.”

“So he had a gap of nine years between spouses?”

“He had a baby and a six-year-old to deal with. Too busy for romance, I assume. He called in Gran to help babysit us a few times – she wasn’t related to anyone in the family yet, but she and Father were both high status enough that they’d exchange favors. It was good for morale. She gave us religious lessons on the light.”

“I know how well that worked out,” Facilier said, and made Luxord’s triangle sign.

Luxord beamed. “She was nice, but sometimes there’s a call you can’t walk away from.”

“Don’t say that too loud or Annette will give you a speech on Christianity. Trust me on this. Voudou’s bad enough, but your crew?”

Luxord put a finger to his lips and nodded vigorously. The Magus Triad were mostly benevolent, but a trio of witch goddesses would go over here just as well as they had gone back on Radiant Garden when he’d told Ansem he was converting. Could Annette’s lectures be worse than his father’s? Luxord had no interest in finding out.

“Good man,” Facilier said. “Now, what next?”

“Should we bring out my gifts?” Luxord asked.

Facilier looked around, then pointed. “We should. That’s Big Daddy LeBouf’s car.” Luxord peered at the glossy automobile that dwarfed the others parked at the side of the road. “You should give him what he’s getting while he’s still here.”

“He doesn’t stay long?”

Facilier snorted. “He gets salutations and a cookie for being nice to all the colored folks, then drives off patting himself on the back. See, he’s invited because he’s related to half a dozen families here.”

Luxord spotted the man shaking hands with Melvin while his daughter chatted up a couple women. “How? He’s white.”

“I see you have eyes,” Facilier said. He looked around, then pulled Luxord further away from the kids and the flower and toward the house. “Look, we don’t talk about this in front of the kids. Big Daddy’s ol daddy was around when there was still slavery, and lots of black women were slaves in his house. He and his wife didn’t get along too well, and she traveled a lot. Do the math.”

Luxord did the math and shuddered. “And he’s allowed around?”

“Well…” Facilier rolled his eyes. “For all that he’s a money grubbing plantation owner, he never followed in that part of Daddy’s footsteps. And since he’s polite and not actively evil and gives decent money to black folk who straighten their hair and kiss his shoes, everyone thinks he’s the bees’ knees.”

“But you know better?” Luxord asked.

“I know better,” Facilier confirmed. “Mama was never respectable. She married a voudouist who disappeared when I was five, was too busy helping people to do her hair and would show up at his mansion in her bathrobe asking for loans. He only helped her when she helped him first – lots of requests for his cute little daughter and lovely wife. None of them mattered when the big influenza happened in 1918 – Mama could only save Big Daddy’s daughter from it. Not his wife. So he didn’t send Mama help when she caught the flu – not until her funeral.” His eyes were full of fire. “Even the most powerful healing touch won’t help if your lungs are full of blood.”

Luxord peered at Big Daddy. He was a big, healthy man. Possible risk for cardiovascular disease. Could happen to anyone. Tragic. Death magic was illegal, but so was being a Nobody. With the right connections pulled, the right magic found… “If you wanted, I could make it look like an accident.”

Facilier barked a laugh. “Oh, I wish! It’s a nice thought. I appreciate it.”

I wasn’t joking, Luxord thought, but then Facilier leaned against him. “No one else takes my loathing seriously. They’re too busy sucking up to him to think he might abandon them if things go bad. At least one person at this party believes me.”

“I do.” Luxord said. “Come, let’s set up. We’ll do your present once we go home after dinner.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Let’s go impress the party.”

* * *

 

Stacks of jewelry boxes on a table. One large box for Annette and Melvin; another little one for Boni and Faith. A large jewelry box for Charlotte Lebouf, several boxes for her friend Tiana’s family, and one impressive box for Big Daddy.

“How much did this all cost?” Facilier asked.

“Maybe a month and a half of salvage income?” Luxord said. “I get food and board for free at the Organization, so I make money by taking the gemstones and money the Heartless drop and selling it on the black market. Technically I’m not supposed to, but since everyone else does it,” and he flourished. “If Zexion and Marluxia can flagrantly embezzle, I can too. And better than them. It’s my damn department.”

“I can’t believe you’re taking your frustration with your coworkers out by showering the neighborhood in jewelry,” Facilier said. He opened up one box and held it at angles, admiring how the pearl earrings caught the light. “Why’s a Heartless got money and jewels?”

“The human heart is full of greed. Why would it change while unconnected from the body? They’re like magpies, stealing shiny things for fun.” Luxord waved to Annette to indicate that they were almost ready. “Sometimes when you kill a Heartless, their latent magic leaves gemstones. I don’t know why. I’m an accountant, not a biologist.”

“Convenient, that.”

“It’s a little like materia, I suppose. The magic that was holding them together crystallizes,” Luxord said, and then clammed up as Annette came over.

There were already some curious children hanging around the table; Annette announcing that Facilier had brought a new friend who brought gifts for the family brought curious adults as well.

“In my country, some jewelry is said to be able to ward off disease and poison,” Luxord said to the crowd. “It’s customary to gift newborns with such things. My gifts are not nearly so well made as those made by our host, Mr. Facilier,” and he waved to Melvin, who grinned, “but I hope that you take these trinkets as a gesture of my gratitude that you’ve allowed me to join you.”

In all truths, Luxord had spent his time in Agrabah and Atlantica hunting Heartless in preparation for this. The moogle craftspeople had taken his pearls, cold iron and mythril and used them to create earrings and bracelets that would protect from poisons, viruses and bacteria. His harmless little trinkets would protect Facilier’s family and friends from the cruelties of disease that had taken his mother. And, with any luck, people would notice and think fondly of his Facilier for it.

The magic show had helped him remember how to talk to humans, not the facsimiles that made up the Organization. He shook hands, exchanged small talk and let seven year olds ask probing questions about his earrings. (“Childhood illness. More jewelry meant more safety from the disease that took my mother as a baby.”) He talked around the ‘hunting’ job that gave him access to so much jewelry and buttered up Melvin and Annette instead.

Doctor Facilier had shown him around town, so kind, no he didn’t believe the rumors about demons, yes they had gone to church together, and Facilier had such a lovely family! My goodness, what a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.

Annette and Melvin got magical cookware: a pot that would boil water in about a minute, but wouldn’t get hot on the outside and burn the cook; a skillet that no burnt crusty stuff would stick to; and a pressure cooker that cooked at twice the rate of a normal one. None of it was obvious magic, but Annette’s gleeful face told Luxord that he’d chosen his gifts well. Accelerating the creation of food would give her more of the most precious element: time.

Boni got a ribbon – rather, a Ribbon. One of the rarest and most valuable armors in the known universe, a dozen protective magics sealed up in a green and red ribbon lined with gold embroidery. She let him tie it around her wrist in a bow ‘for luck’ and nodded gravely when he told her not to take it off.

Miss Charlotte got “black pearls imported from a far off port.” There was no magic to the necklace, but it seemed the girl was happy enough with a valuable trinket. Her friend the tired looking girl got a bracelet that would “help negate sleep deprivation.”

The girl glared at him. “And what makes you think I need this?”

“I’ve been to three different restaurants at breakfast, lunch and dinner and seen you waitressing. I can count shift hours. Take care of yourself.”

Tiana raised an eyebrow at him, but slipped the bracelet onto her wrist anyway. Facilier hid a smile behind his sleeve; it had been his idea.

“Mr. LeBouf – “

“Call me Big Daddy, son!”

“Big Daddy,” Luxord corrected himself with a smile, “what do you get for the man who has everything? That’s the question that plagued me. But with a little help, I figured something out.” He opened up Big Daddy’s box to reveal three small bottles. “For the man with the sugar touch: sweeteners from other areas of the world for if you ever get tired of your favorite crop. Agave syrup, pure cocoa powder and Radiant-style flower honey.”  

Big Daddy met his eyes for a long second, then stared down at the three jars. “Real cocoa… This is all stuff with high tariffs. However did you afford this gift?”

“It’s amazing what you can find if you’re willing to go a little off the coast,” Luxord said simply, and beamed. “Only the best for the family.”

See, old man? You’re not the only one with power here.

Tiana’s beautiful mother got a new hatpin with protection from blindness and several reels of gold and silver thread – sure to jack up the price to whatever she sewed it with. She lead Big Daddy away. Then it was the family trying on pins, little girls asking their mothers to get their ears pierced, and Luxord rapping the knuckles of anyone trying to take more than one.

“I brought extra, but I’m not giving out extra until everyone’s gotten one.”

Facilier watched. His tense shoulders slowly relaxed. Luxord could feel Facilier’s heart unclenching bit by bit as a girl almost as old as Sora gave Boni a piggyback ride and the eyes on him softened bit by bit.

The plan was working. Luxord got them more barbecue and pie and they ate in adjoining chairs, Facilier stealing bits and pieces from his plate. The sky went from reflecting the sea to the purple of Facilier’s eyes.

And then he felt Facilier’s heart clench. Luxord looked to the table of gifts. The only one at it was an old woman with thick sunglasses and a cane. Small. Intimidating. Luxord remembered his grandmother, who gathered flowers for potpourri and wielded a keyblade as long as she was tall; it was very feasible that this woman could be the source of Facilier’s anxiety. And hadn’t Facilier said that his grandmother disapproved of him for dealing with demons?

Well. Luxord had gleaned enough context to know that however and whenever Facilier had summoned the Friends, it had been for a very good reason. If he was undead now, what condition had he been in when he called them? What made him terrified of white people and cars? What had left his leg aching and stiff?

“Greetings, ma’am,” Luxord said as he made it to the table, and put on his best smile. “You seem to be spending some time looking at these. Do you need any assistance?”

“I was wondering when you’d show up.” She tapped her cane on the table. “I heard Lazare was dallying with a stranger.”

“Not strange for long, I hope.”

“No, you’ve been as pleasant as punch so far, from what I’ve heard. Scurrying around town to visit churches, and you even helped Annette with her child. Never seen a woman look so hale and healthy after a birth.”

“Annette’s as steadfast as an evergreen. The praise should go to her for staying calm in such a strenuous situation and to Fac -to Lazare for handling the birth so well on his own.” Two-thirds of the people here were Faciliers, so it only made sense to swap to a first name basis. “I merely assisted.”

“Oh, so quick to brush away the praise!” She cackled. “And polite as a priest. You don’t have to be so formal. I’m Mama Odie.”  She offered her hand.

“I’m called Luxord. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He shook it. Her hands were as rough as tree bark, and Luxord estimated her grip could unsettle a weaker being. He met it with a matching strength, and she nodded in approval –

And something fell from under her sunglasses. Luxord moved on instinct and caught it before it could hit the ground.

An artificial eye. An _organic_ artificial eye. Luxord was familiar with such things, as some survivors of the Heartless needed them after battle, but usually they were connected to the eye’s internal nerves after being grown. He had never heard of ones that one just popped in like a glass eye. Or ones that smelled like formaldehyde, for that matter. 

But it was not his place to judge someone’s choice of artificial eyes. Different worlds had different technology levels, and if it made her comfortable, it was the optimal kind of eye. “I beg your pardon, but you dropped your eye,” he said, and met her questioning hand with his own. “Do you need something to clean it with?”

“Nah, it’ll be just fine,” she said, and popped the eye back in as if she were merely swapping equipment. Which, Luxord supposed, she was. “Thank you. Now, can we talk about these gifts you bought?”

“Did you need help picking one?”

“No, that’s not it.” She beckoned him closer, and he leaned down for her. She whispered in his ear: “I know a single one of these lil trinkets you bought are worth more than the LeBouf gifts combined.”

Oh. She was definitely on his Gran’s level, to pick that up. “That’s correct,” he said.

“Thought so,” she said, and let him stand back up. “The only thing I can’t figure out is why.”

“Is it not polite to bring gifts to a party?”

"Most folks wouldn't bring this much around unless they're expectin' something in return."

“Maybe what these gifts give is what I want. They say that they bring good health to those who wear them.”

"What you gettin' out of folks you don't much like and don't know being healthy?"

“I like the majority of people here,” Luxord said. “And I know who they are. They’re the Facilier family, yes?”

“So it’s because of Lazare,” Mama Odie said. “He asked you for this.”

“No. This is of my own free will.”

“Is that so.” She nodded. There weren’t many people left around the table now. Most of them were setting out blankets and chairs to watch the fireworks when the sun finally set. “The way I figure it, you don’t try and buy the love of someone you like.”

Luxord’s smile didn’t budge a centimeter. “If I thought I could get their affection any other way, I’d have done it.”

“You’re just like him, ain’t you? It always comes down to money. But where he’s desperate for it, you throw it at your problems.”

“If I had a dollar every time someone told me that, I could buy the entire city instead of just half of it.”

“And it’s no wonder he’s drawn to you. He wants every cent of that money you’re throwing at your problems. But money can’t fix your heart, Nothing Man,” she said. “Whatever he told you ain’t true.”

Luxord leaned down again. She couldn’t see him, but he had no doubt she could feel his lukewarm breath – too cold for a living human’s. “One who knows nothing can understand nothing.”

Mama Odie pushed his head up and tutted him. “I understand enough nothing to know ya’ll are both in trouble if you keep on this path. I’m trying to set you straight.”

Luxord plucked her hand off like a stray fly. “If leaving him out to dry unless he kowtows to your rules is the straight path, I think staying on the crooked one fits us both just fine.”

“Wouldn’t you say summoning a pack of demons is leaving us all out to dry?” Odie countered.

“Depends on the context, doesn’t it?”

“What context? What’s not selfish about summoning demons for fast cash?”

A crack formed in Luxord’s perfect smile, and he leaned down again, his fingers splayed as if around a card. But before he could speak, skinny hands pulled him back.

Lazare. His Facilier. “It’s time for the fireworks and we should go right now,” he said very quickly, and with that he dragged Luxord away.

* * *

 

Facilier had seen dangerous things before, of course. The Friends. White people. Cars. White people. Dogs. White people. His aunties and uncles, sometimes. Danger was everywhere in this world. He’d gotten a sense for it.

And he was sensing it now. On the one side of the table was Luxord, whose teeth were bared like a snarling dog, his guileless mask falling to tatters. On the other was his grandmother, whose calm face belied how tightly she was gripping her cane.  

Facilier couldn’t let this escalate. Luxord had worked so hard to impress Facilier’s family today (why?) and it would be ruined if he attacked Granny Odie. First of all, because it was unspeakable to attack someone’s grandmother, and second of all, there was no dignity or pride to be found in a grown man getting his hide tanned by someone’s grandmother.

So he ran to Luxord and pulled him away. Luxord’s body was as stiff as stone until he turned, and his entire body softened. The snarl dropped. He became as easy to lead away as a balloon, and lead Facilier did until they made it to the far side of the lawn, where a towel was waiting for them.

Facilier sat Luxord down on a wicker chair. Then he sat next to him on a second chair and pinned Luxord’s legs with his own. “What – what are you doing?” Luxord asked. He was shaking now. Adrenaline? He’d seen Luxord talking to muggers he intended to kill later, but Luxord had been all confidence and smiles then as he lured them to a place where he could hide the bodies.

He’d seen Luxord talk to the Friends without breaking a sweat. He’d talked to Facilier’s family all day without a hint of annoyance. Hell, it had taken Facilier a few months to break through the smiling mask.

And Odie had broken it in two minutes.

“Making sure you don’t try and get in a fight with my grandmother!” Facilier adjusted himself so their sides were pressed together and hooked his leg firmly around Luxord’s.  Luxord was stronger than him, sure, but Facilier doubted he’d risk hurting Facilier’s knee over a fight- and oh, his body was cool in the July heat.

“She started it,” Luxord mumbled. The energy that had animated him for the entire picnic was draining now. He looked as hollow as he had been when they first met. 

“Still!” Facilier brushed off Luxord’s shirt, trying to get a little of the light to come back in his eyes. “It wouldn’t be a fair fight. She’d knock your head into next week if you tried something!”

Luxord wiped his forehead; his hand came back wet. He hadn’t broken a sweat all day. Why now? “She slandered you.”

Was _that_ what had Luxord snarling? “Everyone slanders me,” Facilier said matter-of-factly, and pushed Luxord’s shoulder when he saw Luxord’s lip curl. Luxord obediently fell onto his back, and Facilier flopped down next to him, his good leg still hooked over one of Luxord’s. “Let me guess. She said I summoned the Friends for money?”

“She did,” Luxord hissed.

Luxord was – upset? Over that little tidbit?  Facilier shok his head. “Back then – this was back in 1916, I was 17, I was an idiot. Mama spent most of her money on her patients. I wanted more. Better. And the only way to get more and better here is with money.” He’d scorned Mama’s work with patients, her kindness without pay. He hadn’t noticed her trading with neighbors, how the family helped so much. Like a stupid child.  “So I made deals, gambled, that kind of thing. Stupid stuff. Mama had to pull me out of a few scrapes, and you know how this family gossips.”

Luxord nodded. Oh, there was the fire in his eyes again.

“So when – one day, I was walking home, and there was this – group of white men, and, and – ” Facilier shuddered.

“You don’t have to say more,” Luxord said quietly. He took Facilier’s hand. “I can fill in the blanks on my own. You don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Facilier squeezed Luxord’s hand with all the tension in him. They were whispering, faces close enough to touch, and – he couldn’t talk about it here. Not when someone could overhear. And not – no, he’d never talked about it with anyone other than Mama and his Shadow.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to die. So I sent Shadow and – the Friends came. They woke up.”

That was true enough to be not a lie. He’d sent Shadow to tell his mother what was happening as he tried to run. She’d come to his rescue with those seven demons at her beck and call, riding the Bull as if it was no more than a particularly ugly horse. She’d scared the lynching party off by summoning a thunderstorm and siccing the Gator on them, then used the powers of the Friends to knit his broken body back together.

They all thought he was still dead. He’d thought he was dead when his mother found him. He spent the next two weeks hiding in the house, just waiting for one of them to realize the body they’d abandoned wasn’t dead and come back to get him and Mama… At least until Granny Odie came to the house to ask who awakened those damn demons, and he’d realized there were other things he and Mama were in danger from.

Luxord nodded. His face had regained the placid smile he wore most of the time, but his eyes still burned. “Why didn’t you tell her why you summoned them? There’s leeway in a life or death situation, isn’t there?”

Facilier swallowed. “Why bother? They’d never believe me.”

And what would happen if they found out that dear, sweet Adelaide, who apprenticed under Granny Odie as a voudou priestess and healed the sick until her dying day, was the one who woke them up? They wouldn’t believe it now. It was easier on everyone – on him, on his family – to be the scapegoat.

Luxord’s eyes narrowed as if seeing through the not-quite-a-lie, and Facilier tensed – but then Luxord nodded and his face became as calm as an undisturbed pond. “I understand,” he said. “Sometimes family just won’t listen to you. And if you want – you’ve given me a lot of information today, but I haven’t given you an equal measure. I can pay you back for this…exchange of information.”

That startled a laugh out of Facilier. “What is this? You haven’t given me enough already? Presents, company, the last piece of your blueberry pie…” Did Luxord - feel bad for him? Insomuch as a Nobody could feel, he added in Luxord’s gentle accent. Was he offering free information to _comfort_ him?

“I owe you your present too, if you want it.” His voice was so warm, now.

“I never say no to your presents,” Facilier said. Luxord was definitely trying to comfort him.  “I guess you can give it to me here instead of at home,” he added, as if he was the one doing the other a favor. 

Luxord nodded and pulled a slim box from his inventory and handed it to Facilier. “That’s a Ribbon. I gave one to Boni earlier.”

“I saw it,” Facilier said, and turned the box over and over in his hands. Lightweight. The wood was sanded but unpolished, giving it a pleasant texture. “I was ten feet away but I could feel the magic coming off of it from there. I can feel it now, like the coolness of mint crushed between bare fingers. This is powerful stuff, isn’t it?”

“Five of Miss Charlotte’s necklaces would be worth one of the anti-sickness bracelets I gave away,” Luxord said. “Twenty of those bracelets would be worth a Ribbon. They’re the finest in defensive magic you can get without having to stick it to armor. They protect from everything from poison to sunblindness, burns to frostbite to electrocution, and dozens more. They don’t completely mitigate the risk, but it’s lowered substantially. A one in one hundred chance.” Luxord pulled up his sleeve to reveal what he hadn’t taken off with his coat and armor: a faded Ribbon. “My father got me one in the hopes that it would protect me from my mother’s illness when I was a boy.”

Facilier whistled as he pulled the Ribbon out. The red and green of it was bright against his hand. “Must’ve cost you a pretty penny to buy two.”

“Oh, I didn’t pay in money,” Luxord said airily. “Not that money was a problem, but as the accountant of the Organization I have a reputation to maintain about frugality. Aliens called moogles run smithies and will make anything you want if you pay them in twice the necessary base materials of that thing. The bigger a Heartless is, the more likely it is to have eaten something valuable. Vexen says eating magic gemstones helps them keep their shape. I personally think they just like them, but I’m just an accountant.”

Facilier offered the Ribbon to Luxord; he took it and looped it around Facilier’s wrist, began to tie it. “You did say they eat gems. How often do you find Heartless gems?”

“Depends on the gems.”

Facilier flicked Luxord’s hand as he knotted the bow. “Don’t dance around the subject. You know what I’m asking.”

“It’s not appropriate to discuss the price of a gift,” Luxord said, and gave Facilier a distracted swat. Facilier grabbed his hands and squeezed them tightly, gave Luxord a look that said _spill the beans_. Luxord sighed and added: “It takes about two months of searching to hunt and kill enough rare Heartless to successfully get the rarest item needed for a Ribbon.”

Facilier choked.

“That’s why I didn’t – I collected most of these materials before we met,” Luxord said. “They’ve been sitting in my private storage for years. Because I embezzled them from the Organization. I mean – I never turned them in as salvage because I knew I could use them to create items or sell for money I’d need later. Even before getting into the Superior’s reaction to embezzlement, my family would have a fit that I didn’t bring in valuable materials for them to waste in pointless science experiments.” He shrugged. "I didn't want you to feel like this was -"

"What? A big gesture? Four months of your paychecks as a gift to my niece and I?" Facilier stared at Luxord as if he were spouting madness, and his hands went limp on Luxord’s. "You spent _months_ ’ worth of your paychecks on gifts for my family, that's a - it's a big deal." Magic gifts that would keep illness away, things to keep danger and harm away from Boni, something most of them could hide under clothes, not so pretty as to catch a white man's eye - Luxord had put thought and time and money into this gift, and it was taking Facilier's every effort to keep a straight face at the thought of it all.

When was the last time someone had honestly tried to do something nice for him without wanting something in return? Not since his mother had died.

"I knew if you knew what it cost it would be one, so I was - I had most of these things lying around, I've had them for years with nothing to do with them. And I know it might not seem like much, but letting me have,” and Luxord gestured with his free hand at Facilier’s family all around the lawn, curled up on blankets and hugging and talking, “this semblance of human normality has been a gift far more priceless than any of those materials I had hoarded.”

“Human normality. You mean having a family that’s not treating you like a mule only good for carrying their sorry asses around?”

Luxord’s smile froze guileless. “You’ve misconstrued me.”

“I’ve missed nothing. You’re not the only one who can fill in blanks.” Facilier squeezed Luxord’s hands again. “You talk about how you had that old family life, but nothing about that new family life. You talk about how they’re your bosses and they know it. There’s no gratitude for it.”

“Gratitude is an emotion!” Luxord hissed, and he tugged at Facilier’s hands.

“Like hell it is,” Facilier hissed, and tugged back. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have spent six months of gemstones you had to rip out of a demon’s guts on bringing magic gifts for everyone in my family!”

“That’s not gratitude, it’s simple logic! I wanted to bring a good gift, and people get sick and die here from things that are curable in space, so I brought something that would prevent that! Health is the best possible gift!”

"If you wanted to do that you could have brought fresh fish or made ice boxes like the one you messed with in my kitchen. You brought magical jewelry that'll keep people safe. That's not a casual gift. You do that when you're - " Facilier slowed as realization dawned, "attached."

Luxord’s shocked smile was punctuated with the first firework. Purple bloomed above them, then gold, then green. Each burst of color rattled Facilier’s ribcage.

“I’ve let things go too far,” Luxord said as the echoes of the first flurry of fireworks faded.  “We aren’t supposed to talk to humans at all.”

All Facilier could say was: “What.”

“Mardi Gras was my birthday. I decided to have a day off. Where the Superior couldn’t look.” Luxord’s hands were boneless in Facilier’s. “It was supposed to be one day.”

“One day.”

“I needed a day to talk to someone that wasn’t them. _Anyone_. I hadn’t expected that you’d be – that you were – that I’d –” He pulled his hands out of Facilier’s grip and hugged himself. “It’s unprofessional. And unsafe. To you. I shouldn’t be here at all. If the Superior found out – ”

“He hasn’t,” Facilier said.

Fireworks burst red and white over them as Facilier gently tugged Luxord’s hands back into his own.

“He hasn’t,” Luxord said, “and I’m trying not to let him know. But if he did, he would never let me come back. I only have so much time until my luck runs out.”

“So what – you’re making your impact while you can still come here?”

“Yes.” Luxord’s hands clenched in Facilier’s. “I’d come back when I was human again. But who knows how long that would take? How old would Boni be then?”

Facilier added Luxord’s unspoken: “How healthy would _I_ be if you were gone?”  

Luxord nodded. “I have never been one to believe in preordained things. Free will governs the universe. Fate fractals with every choice we make. So what fraction of a percentage of chance was it that lead me to your rooftop that day? What are the odds that I’d meet the one person who could make me feel like I had a heart again?”

Fireworks gushed gold and purple as Facilier stared at Luxord.

“I’ve said too much,” Luxord said, stricken.

"You've said just enough," Facilier corrected, guiding Luxord’s hands to rest over his heart. The fireworks overhead cast bright shadows over his pale wrists. "Something empty looks for something to fill it; drinking, gambling, debauchery, a friend to hold on to. I've seen a lot of desperate souls in my work; I recognize empty when I see it. You're lonely. I was too."

Luxord’s eyes widened. “Was?"

"You think I've got time to be lonely now, with you here every week?"

 _Boom_! went the fireworks. Facilier’s heart raced under Luxord’s hand. A genuine smile formed on Luxord’s face as sure and sweet as the sunrise.

“I’m not lonely anymore either,” Luxord whispered.

And with that, they watched the fireworks together.

* * *

 

Luxord and Facilier were allowed to take the twin beds in Annette and Melvin’s guest bedroom on account of ‘it’d be cruel to make Lazare get in a car after that much bootleg wine.’ Half a cup really wasn’t that much alcohol, in Luxord’s opinion, but Facilier had looked so relieved about it that he didn’t refuse.

It was noisier there than in The Castle That Never Was. Faith cried halfway through the night, wood creaked in wind, and Facilier snored. It was an aesthetically pleasing snore, but still a snore. The sheets smelled like Annette’s perfume and soap and not the sterile detergent the Organization’s laundry departments used. (Nobodies didn’t need sheets, per se, but they made a nice reward for hard workers and so Luxord helped run the laundry department.) Still, it only took a few minutes for Luxord to settle into bed and sleep deeply, without dreams.

* * *

 

Facilier dreamed of flying over a land with black sand and black sky. Glowing blue crystals jutted from black cliffs. Black creatures skittered among the sand like ants. A great black sea was full of points of light that the sky lacked.

Black ants, black sky, black sea, black land. Facilier wondered if this was what white people had nightmares about. All he felt was annoyance at the chill.

THIS IS MY DREAM, someone boomed. THIS IS MY LAND. I AM THE KING! WHO DARES INTRUDE?

“Beg pardon, but this is my dream,” Facilier said. He did not have a body in his dream, but he crossed his arms in spirit. “You’re the one intruding.”

BEGONE, STRANGE VOICE! TEMPT ME NOT WITH COMPANY IN THIS LAND WITHOUT MINDS.

Facilier snorted. “What, wake up in a dream? My life’s gone good enough to be a dream, and I’m not risking that vanishing.”

HMPH. GREED BECOMES THE HUMAN HEART. YOUR AVARICE SHALL PAIR WITH MY ENVY NICELY. IF YOU SHALL NOT LEAVE, THEN I SHALL INVITE YOU TO MY KINGDOM!

Facilier felt a hand as large as his shoulders grasp him, and he was jerked –

Awake.

Sunrise peeked through the window of Annette’s spare bedroom. It colored the floorboards dark as wine; it turned Luxord’s gold hair pink, and gave his porcelain cheeks a healthy flush.

“This isn’t a dream,” Facilier told himself.

Luxord stirred, voice slurred with sleep. “ _Daijobouka, Lazare_?”

“I don’t understand a word you said,” Facilier said. “How about some coffee?”

“ _Hai_ – ah, yes, please,” Luxord murmured. “You’re too kind, Facilier.”

“That’s right, I am,” Facilier said softly.

“Your heart shines like a king’s opal…”

“Go back to sleep until I show up with coffee.”

* * *

 

Luxord sat with Facilier in comfortable silence as they drank coffee together.

Once the rest of the family was up, breakfast became a noisy affair. Luxord showed Boni how to tie a fashionable rose knot on her Ribbon while Facilier and Annette juggled pancakes and the baby. Faith tipped maple syrup on Luxord’s coat, which meant he then got to demonstrate how the leather was waterproof in front of an audience. Melvin offered to drop Facilier off on the way to work while Luxord drew Boni princess gowns.

“Draw me a picture of your mommy!” Boni demanded.

Luxord made a big show of going hmmm. “I’ll do my best,” he said, and ignored Facilier’s curious look as he started drawing. “I only saw pictures of my mother. She died when I was a baby. My father was afraid I’d get sick like her, which is why I have so many earrings: he thought they’d help keep the sickness away.”

“Because jewelry makes illness go away?” Melvin said, tapping the magic lapel pin Luxord had brought for him.

“Exactly.”

“Are you sad about her?” Boni asked.

“Not really. I never knew her. My older brother was close to her before she died, so most of what I knew about her came from him.” And, frankly, Ansem’s descriptions of her were incredibly boring compared to Xigbar’s. What was a paragon of beauty compared to the woman who taught his big brother how to pick pocket and cheat at cards? “There’s a world of difference between what you hear from your father and from your ten year old brother.

“He said she was a thief who came from a country of thieves. They had a thief queen who could steal countries out from under the inhabitants’ feet, and engineers that stole rivers around the country to put into a big river for the capital city.” He sketched the river, then a tall clocktower over it. “Her favorite place in the city was the clocktower next to the church where they buried thief-kings, which was decorated in stolen saints. If you climbed to the top of the clocktower, you could see the thief-church, the stolen river and the thieves’ headquarters where the thief-lords debated what country to steal next.” A crude landscape sprung up under his pencil. “They even stole the air away to make light and smoke. So my mother decided she was sick of it and stole herself away. She took a boat and sailed it down the stolen river until it went to the sea, and then kept on sailing and sailing.

“She sailed through a kingdom of stolen children, and through a world of talking beasts, until she made it to a kingdom that grew flowers among ice. And there she met a rich nobleman, and she stole his heart.”

Luxord drew a crude representation of Ansem in a red mage’s flamboyant suit and his mother in a thief’s loose clothing. In the pictures that remained from that time, Ansem actually looked like he gave half a damn about something other than his research, and his mother had the look of a woman caught between movements, ready to spring at the next adventure.

Xigbar had a photo album once, when they were still humans and lived at the castle as brothers. ‘Marie and Me.’ Luxord’s mother had taken Xigbar climbing on the castle walls leaping from roof to roof, challenging him to jumping contests. There were pages of photos culled from videos where the pregnant king’s consort and the young prince dared each other to eat hot peppers or to try that weird food Ansem brought home while Ansem mugged in the background at his oldest son and wife.

“They had a good three years together before I was born. She stole Father away from his research and made him look at the world, and she found things that were more precious than what could be stolen. No one expected her to get sick. She didn’t expect to get sick. She didn’t even know until the day it killed her.” Luxord sighed, drawing his mother’s hooked nose and his father’s delicate eyes. “My father and my brother were devastated. Father didn’t remarry as a noble was wont to do until I was nine.”

By this time, the entire family was gathered around Luxord’s picture. Boni was the first one to comment. “Women can wear pants where you live?”

“Yes! Father said that she liked that a lot because she could run better in pants.”

Facilier was next. “Luxord, we’ve known you were mixed for a while…”

“Yes, we talked about it at Easter, I believe.”

“But you didn’t mention that your rich daddy and his rich lands were the Asian half of the family to us, Luxord.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t,” Luxord said, and blinked up at Facilier. “Does that make a difference? I thought you said that all it took was one drop of blood to change what I am.”

“It’s the difference between a Madam Butterfly and a yellow peril,” Facilier said. “I dunno how much it matters to us, but…” He looked at Boni, who was listening in with some confusion, and Annette and Melvin, who seemed to understand the grave fact that Luxord and their daughter did not. Luxord shrugged to Facilier; he didn’t know what those phrases meant, but Facilier did, and no doubt Facilier would explain why that made him look so stricken sooner or later.

“It doesn’t matter,” Annette said. “It’s not going to matter. And Melvin, you’re going to be late to work if you don’t leave soon. I’ll go talk to Boni if you get these two into the car.”

“Right,” Melvin said, and he gathered Facilier and Luxord up and hurried them toward the car.

It was a peaceful enough drive. Facilier clung to Luxord’s hand when they went around tight corners, and Luxord bantered with Melvin about seatbelts and how cars still did not have any. They were dropped off with little incident. Facilier’s Shadow opened the door for them, and Luxord held Facilier’s hand as they went through the threshold.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Luxord said. “I had a wonderful time.”

“Good. I had fun too,” Facilier said. He fidgeted with his cane.

Luxord shifted. Luxord looked around. Luxord cast a Magnet spell and pulled a chair toward them. “Here. Let your leg rest. You spent so much time on your feet yesterday.”

“Thanks. My knee’s going to be aching. It’s worth it, but still aching.” Facilier sat, though he kept holding Luxord’s hand.

Luxord did not know what else to say. Fortunately, he did not have to say anything as the Bull pulled themselves from the wall and floated over. **Nothing Man, we have created more strange Heartless, as per our agreement. Be careful opening this package of Heartless; these ones will attack whatever they see until it leaves their field of vision.** Their great mouth opened and one of Luxord’s card traps fell into Luxord’s hands.

“Oh! Thank you,” Luxord said.

**Thank you. These ‘hearts’, these souls, that you have brought us are delicious. We are sated. Unlike most humans, you have filled your end of the deal well.**

Facilier shivered.

“It’s hardly the act of a good accountant to fail to pay the terms of a contract,” Luxord said. “I hope we can make more deals.”

 **As do I. Good travels.** And with that, the Bull floated away.

“That’s the quietest any of them has ever been,” Facilier said.

“Is that good?”

“Yes.” Facilier squeezed Luxord’s hand. “You don’t owe me any information, Luxord, Hell, I probably owe you some with all the mud I’ve dragged you through.”

“What, are you still thinking about that from last night?” Luxord shook his head. “And you haven’t dragged me into anything.”

“Yes, I have.” Facilier sighed. “And I still have to explain what Madam Butterfly means.”

_Ring ring! Ring ring!_

Luxord scrambled for his ringing magic mirror and pulled it out. A text from Demyx. **VI showed up & acting weird pls come here**

“I have to go,” Luxord said, and started texting back. “My co-worker needs help. It’s an emergency.”

“Typical,” Facilier muttered. “See you tomorrow?”

“Maybe. If the emergency is bad, I might be gone for a couple weeks.” The Superior would be most upset if Zexion told him that Luxord was goofing off - Luxord was supposed to be with Demyx right now and now and - Luxord’s mind was already racing to think of ways to get Zexion to back down –

At least Demyx hadn’t thrown Luxord under the bus. He must have remembered how many favors he owed Luxord.

“Good luck,” Facilier said. He did not look up. He did not let go of Luxord’s hand.

Luxord lingered. Facilier’s fingers were long and thin and fragile, green under the nails from herbal work, calloused, warm. If Zexion were to call for punishment for neglecting his duty, Luxord might be gone for a very long time. How much more punishment would these hands take while Luxord was gone?

“I’ll take my luck and make it good,” Luxord said, and he squeezed Facilier’s hand one last time before letting go.

* * *

 

The coordinates Demyx gave to travel to by dark portal lead to a small island on the permeable barrier between Atlantica’s endless ocean and Port au Prince’s sandy beaches. The two worlds were so close that you could swim between them if you had the stamina and the knowledge of the sea, and Demyx had both.

The island was no more than a mile across. Tropical trees did little to hide Demyx’s lanky, leggy Dancers, whose legs and shoes were said to be stained permanently red with the blood of their old lives, and Luxord’s Gamblers, who gathered around Luxord as he stepped from the portal onto the sand.

_Liege, please be prepared, VI requires an accounting of your time!_

_Tell him you have worked hard! We can vouch for your time here. We know you serve the Organization well!_

A Dancer piped up: _While you’re talking to Zexion, ask him if I can swap to his department. I want a more serious boss._

 _Take this seriously!_ A Gambler chided. _Lord Zexion's judgement is harsh._

 _Gods. You all worry too much._ The Dancer cocked the blank golden expanse of her head as if rolling her eyes. _They’re off playing in the sand._

Luxord nodded and gave his Gamblers a respectful half-bow. “Thank you for your concern. I’ll go talk to Zexion now. You all take care of yourselves.”

_Yes, liege!_

He padded over lichen and sandy soil to the other side of the island. There was a burning campfire, and a dead shark, and Zexion’s slight frame tucked up against Demyx. Their backs were to him. Luxord could smell burning fish and frowned slightly. Facilier could do so much more with that shark, he thought.

“And you wouldn’t have to do much more than you do already,” Zexion was saying. “You’d like emphasis on recon and working in the labs, wouldn’t you? No more Saix looking over your shoulder.”

“It does sound kind of better,” Demyx said. “But you’re a way harsher taskmaster than Saix. I don’t think I could take that pressure.”

“We can come to an arrangement. Like Xigbar and the Superior.” Zexion’s arm moved; Luxord couldn’t see exactly where it moved, but Demyx didn’t seem affected by the touch. “He doesn’t do much, does he?”

“Other than that weird spy stuff,” Demyx said. “That’s kinda high stakes, you know?”

“If there was ‘spy stuff,’” Zexion said, quotes carefully placed around the phrase like oven mitts around a hot pot, “I have no doubt I could make it worth your while.”

Oh Triad, Luxord thought. He’s doing it. He’s finally making his move. I should not be here. Why is he here during a mission?

“Like what? Are you going to – promote me?” Demyx asked as the point sailed over his head.  

That wasn’t the response Luxord expected. It seemed to throw Zexion as well, for he paused for a moment before responding. “I know what you do, working with Lord Xemnas and Xaldin to shield the planet from scrying and invaders. You could work the shields round the clock and only have to do scrub work once a week. You could help me integrate fairy magic into our research. Live up to your potential for once.”

“Why are you asking all this from me? It’s so much,” Demyx said. “Like. Luxord’s pretty smart, isn’t he? Why not promote him? He’s way good at working hard.”

Demyx! He’s flirting! Luxord thought. You’re 300 years old! Don’t you recognize that kind of thing? Do fairies not do this kind of thing? And he can’t promote me because I’m not going to sleep with my 17 year old brother! If this were on merit alone, Zexion would have offed you ages ago because of how picky he is!

“Luxord is just fine where he is. He’s suited to menial, everyday work that supports the rest of us. He doesn’t have the potential that you do,” Zexion purred.

Luxord bit the inside of his mouth.

“You mean…you’ll make him do my work for me? For free?” Demyx asked.

“He does your work anyway, doesn’t he? I can tell the quality of his work from yours. He’s much better at fetching and finding than you are, but if I could get you free to work with me on theory… If you would let me have you… I know you’d prove a dozen times smarter than him.”

Luxord tasted blood.

“Oh, is this what this song and dance is about? Serve you, worship you and you’ll be my slave?” Demyx laughed. It was nasal and bubbled like a brook full of snowmelt and Luxord imagined he could see a little of what drew Zexion to Demyx if he squinted. “Sorry, kiddo, but you’re only seventeen. You’re waaaay too young for building a labyrinth. Maybe in a few years, ok?”

Zexion gasped.

The laugh that came out of Luxord was not like a bubbling brook. It was like ice cracking on a glacier when it finally couldn’t hold the snowmelt back.

“I leave to find more Heartless for your research and I come back to this?” Luxord said, pulling a card trap out of his inventory.

“Don’t pretend you were out doing work, Luxord. You know better than to leave Demyx alone on a job.”

“Are you saying that because you think he’d be killed without any help, or because you know he only does work if one of us is here to motivate him?”

“Dude, I’m right here,” Demyx said.

Zexion ignored him. “Don’t act like you were actually doing work.”

“I have dedicated my life to the Organization – and you, by extension – since I was recruited! And you repay me by talking behind my back? With _Demyx_?”

“I’m literally sitting at your feet.”

“You’re supposed to do what you’re told. The Organization shouldn’t turn against itself,” Zexion said coldly.

“I have done everything according to what I’ve been told to do. I have a 98% mission success rate and if you weren’t too busy attempting to wriggle into Demxy’s coat, you’d notice I fulfilled yesterday and today’s mission as well.” Luxord crossed his arms, the card trap tucked between two fingers. “What are you even doing here?”

“You’ve spent several missions messing around on Bayou Boulevard rather than returning straight to the castle. I thought it would be reasonable to guess you’d be gone again today,” Zexion said. “And you were.”

“Bayou Boulevard has natural and rare Heartless native to it. I thought you wanted to research the Heartless – or do you just say that when you’re not sucking up to the Superior so he’ll promote you when you turn 18?”

“Don’t think you’re allowed to lecture me just because you’re my older brother. What would Papa and Dad think if they knew?”

“Well, you’re going to tell them no matter what, so I may as well make sure you understand I was off doing an errand for you when you tattle.” Luxord took his card trap and threw it in front of Zexion.

Three pink monkey-shaped Heartless popped out. Zexion gasped, and the three of them turned as one and stared at him.

Then one pulled out a slingshot.

“You are going to be in such deep shit when we get back to the castle,” Demyx said as Zexion ran, the three monkeys chasing with their slingshots twanging.

“I know. But even with a heart, I wouldn’t regret it,” Luxord said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Facilier's backstory is by chuplayswithfire.
> 
> The amazing illustration is by lisspeed@tumblr.com! 
> 
> I'd like to thank my betas chu and skully and my friends steep, Ingvild, karakael and Lissa for their help in getting this chapter ready!!


	20. Day -37: Halloweentown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the wait it took to get to this chapter. I got figuratively hit in the head with RL and time got away from me. I hope you all keep enjoying this ridiculous fic as I keep on going at it, trying to beat the clock to KH3! 
> 
> This chapter's for Bella, who was a good dog.
> 
> (also, heads up, domestic abuse warning in the first part; if you want to skip, ctrl-F to "the next two weeks")

Luxord knew that Lexaeus’s reaction to Zexion coming home covered in welts from the slingshot Heartless (unhealed for dramatic effect) would be drastic. If he were human, he might try and hide from him as fear welled up in his gullet, as cold sweat touched his face.

But Facilier was expecting him. Hiding from an inevitable punishment would only extend it. Instead, Luxord would make sure that his absence would be arranged and taken care of in advance so that things could go back to normal as quickly as possible. It was the only rational response.

So once Demyx and Zexion had left the Grey Room, Luxord bowed to Saix. Clearing this with the mission director was his first priority.  “I beg your pardon, but I’d like to discuss my missions for the next few weeks with you.”

Saix’s golden eyes flicked up from the clipboard, then back down. “What is it?”

“I’m afraid I’ve upset the apprentices and I don’t know if I’ll be able to complete my scheduled missions,” Luxord said. “I wanted to warn you in advance.”

Saix looked up from his clipboard, and his eyebrows rose. “You usually satisfy them. What happened?”

“Zexion accused me of goofing off on a mission. I told him I was completing an extra objective and, ah, threw the objective at him.”

“Haven’t you signed up for Heartless collection?”

“Yes.”

Saix stared at Luxord. If Luxord looked closely, he could swear he could see the ghost of a smile.-

And then Lexaeus’s huge hand closed around Luxord’s collar and bodily yanked him away.

Luxord heard his ribs crack when he hit the wall. Thank goodness he didn’t throw me through the windows or I’d be falling for days, he thought, and then gravity peeled him off the wall and dropped him into the ground.

“I expected better than this from you,” Lexaeus said. His craggy face was crackling like a steppe after an earthquake. “He is your baby brother. You are supposed to protect him, not injure him.”

Luxord forced himself onto his hands and knees, then slowly lowered his forehead to the floor. Cooperation always smoothed things over with his family members. He was only No. X, after all, and Lexaeus and Zexion were V and VI respectively. He’d be allowed to go back once they were satisfied. “I’m sorry, Da – Lexaeus. I’ll be more responsible in the future.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Luxord heard Zexion’s light footsteps and tensed. “Zexion is here.”

“I’m sorry, Zexion,” Luxord said. “I was wrong to strike a superior and to interrupt your conversation. I beg for your forgiveness.”

“That was the kind of thing I’d expect from Marluxia, not you,” Zexion said. “Go work with Vexen for two weeks. Cool your head. Then I’ll consider it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Lexaeus pulled Luxord up by his hood and slung him over his shoulder. Luxord bit back a whimper as his cracked ribs protested. He was going to go along with this as much as he could – but he wasn’t going to give Zexion the satisfaction of hearing him in pain.

At least, not quite yet.

He watched Saix as Lexaeus marched them both out of the Grey Room. Saix had been watching the entire exchange unblinking, unmoving, his hand frozen, his shoulders tensed. There was still a shadow of a smile, but Luxord thought it looked relieved – like he was glad it was Luxord was in trouble, not himself.

Axel had said that he and Saix had had the brunt of the Apprentices’ ire when they were recruited, before he and Demyx had been recruited. Luxord wondered how many times Saix had seen Axel like this, and vice versa.

I should feel bad for them, Luxord thought, if I were human. Instead, the thought racing through his mind was how well he’d done, to avoid being hit by Lexaeus for an entire four years.

 

* * *

 

The next two weeks were full of small miracles in New Orleans.

Widow Brown's hacking cough went away. Babies with fevers had them melt away into nothing. Tyrone Freeman's infected elbow became uninfected, clean and scabbed safely over in four days.

Luxord's little trinkets were working. And when a few miracles happened, some of the families loaned their trinkets to other families.

No one had told the white people. Thankfully. Luxord had picked items that were easy to hide and inconspicuous, but Facilier knew what white people could do to get what they thought they deserved more than colored folks. But with colored doctors and white doctors separated, how were white people going to notice unless some idiot told them?

Well. Facilier had a plan. He always had a plan. That was another miracle – Luxord had left him the extras, and once white people started asking, he’d say that he could sell them – for a price. He’d enchant them something good.

It was a good enough plan.

The last miracle came after a week. Facilier woke up to the Bull hovering over his bed. **Lazarus, we must talk.**

Facilier groaned and sat up, rubbing the gummi stone against his bad knee to ease its aching. “What is it? You usually don’t come to me.”

 **This is business talk. We have finally finished devouring the** , and the Bull made a confused face, **‘tip’ that the Nothing Man gave us. In accordance with our contract, I have written up a deed stating we are taking 200 souls off your debt.**

“You – what.”

**It is because we are taking the souls off your debt.**

“You _what_.”

**Is it so confusing to hear that I would honor a deal?**

“No, that’s not – Mama and I were only able to get it down from 2500 souls after eight years! And he – that Heartless – he just – ” Facilier sank back against his pillow. “1961 souls left.”

 **Yes. Here is the paper that says so**. The Bull opened their mouth and a paper fell into Facilier’s lap. He distantly recognized the Poisoner’s loopy cursive and elegant phrasing; of course she’d have to write it. The Bull didn’t have hands.

200 souls. Four years of work. Four years he wouldn’t have to work thanks to Luxord’s generosity.

 **The Poisoner says happy birthday,** the Bull concluded, and floated away.

Facilier stared up at the ceiling. His breath had been knocked away. Food, Ribbons, souls. A reminder of his birthday that was not a sore hollow in a silent house.  Was there anything Luxord wouldn’t give him?

Luxord hadn’t come back since his emergency on the Fourth of July. It was a sharp change from his daily visits in Atlantica. He’d gotten used to Luxord hopping down the ladder smelling like seasalt and sweat, his leather already half off so he could lounge around –

Had the shop ever been this quiet? Without Luxord, the only noises were the creak of old wood and the toetaps of rats and the masks chattering when they were awake.

 _And me,_ Shadow added.

“And you,” Facilier said, but it was still too quiet. His kitchen had become a space that needed two humans in it.

When had that happened?

* * *

 

Halloweentown was perpetually cloudy, and so the sky reflected the lights on the ground. Here, near the center of town, the sky was lit up red from the pumpkin-shaped lanterns that hung on every street corner; the cobblestones were tinted frothy oranges and earthy browns; the Victorian style houses that lined the streets shimmered bloody rainbows on black paint. The smell of burning leaves and fresh rain mingled with the cinnamon scent of hot drinks served by a skeleton pushing a cart.

Luxord was not in a place to admire the view. For his first assignment out of the castle in <x> days, Vexen had dragged him to a dumpster outside some slick scientist’s lair and told him to get digging.

“What am I looking for, No. IV?” Luxord asked, and knelt. An uneven sheet of metal dug into his knee.

“Some kind of biohazard storage! Or maybe a bag. They don’t have proper science around here,” Vexen scoffed.

“It’s a good thing I can’t become ill, then,” Luxord said, and dumped a ream of scribbled out papers onto the paving stones. “No notes on this thing, yes?”

“No notes.” Vexen touched the papers gingerly with his boot. “Just look for anything that’s vaguely heart shaped. These fools seem to think they can build a heart in a lab with only a few hours of work on it!”

“They found out how to make hearts?”

“Of course not! If you could just make a heart in a lab, I would have done it by now.”

“Then why are we looking for the aftermath of their experiment?” Luxord pulled out a scratched glass container full of colorful orbs that ogled at him like great googly eyes, and showed it to Vexen. Vexen shook his head, and Luxord tossed it to the ground instead.

“From what we were able to piece together from Demyx’s report, they did an experiment and the formerly docile Heartless here went berserk. He listened in as much as he could, but it’s not as if he could just turn invisible and sneak in.”

“Maybe we should research _that_. The Heartless can do it, Papa.”

“That’s No. IV!”

Luxord froze, then bowed to Vexen awkwardly from the dumpster. Two weeks of tiptoeing on the eggshells of a higher level of politeness to get the scientists to calm down, and he’d almost wrecked it. “I didn’t mean it like that… No. IV. You’re a genius. I’m sure you or Zexion could find a way to become invisible, is what I meant.”

“Good.” Vexen’s eyes glittered. “Perhaps Lexaeus and I can see if Zexion has a spare minute…if you ask politely.”

“Of course.” Luxord pulled out a burlap covered steel frame in the shape of a heart. “Do you think this might be it?”

“That looks like a prototype of the one that was stolen,” Vexen confirmed. “Open it up and see what’s inside.”

Luxord rolled the heart around until he found a lid and popped it. The heart screamed and deflated in a gust of stale air. Luxord took a deep breath and reached into the heart.

First he pulled out the skeleton of a snake biting it’s own tail, which jittered out of his hand and went wheeling away once it hit the cobblestones. Vexen glared after it as Luxord pulled out several handfuls of small dried blue flowers, a varnished alarm clock, a metronome and –

“A jack in the box?” Luxord said. He gingerly opened it up; a tiny Jack Skellington in a suit sprung out with a tinny _boo_! “A _Jack_ in the box.”

“Is that everything?” Vexen asked.

Luxord felt around in the heart some more. “That’s everything,” he confirmed.

Vexen stared at the metronome with what Luxord would say was the emotion of contempt, as if a Nobody could be contemptuous. “They tried to make a heart out of random household objects?! A heart is insubstantial!”

“They’re fairies. Do they really understand hearts like humans do?”

“If Demyx of all people can understand, then these fairies can understand – even if they’re rather dim for fairies.”

“That’s because they’re wasps, not bees.” Luxord kicked an accordion-like pipe out of the way and hopped out of the dumpster, holding the steel frame heart. “Maleficent directs a hive and has the intelligence to back it up, but these ones are individuals.”

“They have the strangest polymorphisms, too, but there’s no time to study that.” Vexen examined the heart, then summoned his inventory and stuffed the heart into it. “Maybe there’s something special about this container.”

“Do you want what was inside it, No. IV?” Luxord cleaned his hands with a Fire spell, then pulled the jack in the box out of his inventory.

“Mmm, I’ve got enough with these,” Vexen said, and dumped the metronome into his inventory. “Why? Do you want to play with toys again?”

“It might make good Heartless bait. I’m going to Bayou Boulevard to see if any of my traps caught anything after this, remember?” Luxord pulled out one of his trap decks and started stacking random items on it. “This is my one last chance to pull something off to prove I deserve the grant to keep going there, since Lexaeus feels it’s made me impudent.”

“You are impudent, but I suppose it can’t do any harm. You’re less impudent than Zexion and his father lets him get away with everything.” Vexen snorted. “They’re only V and VI, and I’m No. IV! They ought to respect me more. I’m giving you this chance because you understand respect.”

“I do, Papa – or should I say, No. IV-sama?” Luxord did a full 90 degree bow. Vexen preened. “I’ll make this worthwhile for you to have made this sacrifice for me.”

“Good. I expect you to.” Vexen deigned to pat Luxord’s head. “You can have it. I don’t need a jack in the box or dried flowers.”

“Thank you, No. IV.”

“You’re excused.”

“Again, thank you,” Luxord said, clutching the jack in the box to his chest. He opened his dark portal and shuffled into it, not unbowing until he had closed it behind him.

Then he shot up.

It only took a brief spell to clean the jack in the box. Luxord arranged the little hands of the Jack inside to hold the tiny blue flowers he’d found in the heart. It was a cute little scene.

He hadn’t seen Facilier for so long.  Hopefully he’d be at home when Luxord arrived.

* * *

 

Facilier was sitting down to dinner when Luxord came barreling down the ladder from the roof two rungs at a time and jumped the last 3 feet into Facilier’s kitchen.  Facilier dropped his sandwich and used his cane to pop onto his feet. “You’re back!”

“Facilier!” Two loping steps and Luxord swept Facilier into his arms. “I’m sorry I took so long. Zexion and Lexaeus kept me busy and I wasn’t able to leave until now.”

“Busy enough that you couldn’t come back for two weeks?”

A shadow crossed Luxord’s face. “It’s Zexion. What else can I expect from him? A mere accountant can’t expect to have his own time when there’s science to be done. And if I insult him, why, his father shall swoop in like a harpy to extract his pound of flesh.” A beat. “His Lexaeus father. Vexen doesn’t really care either way as long as the work gets done,” he clarified.

“Younger siblings are like that, I’m told.” Facilier patted his shoulder. “No one respects the middle child.”

“They don’t.” Luxord smiled without humor, then softened as Facilier’s hand curled on his shoulder. “I can’t stay long. They expect me back in an hour and a half. I’ll need to talk to Bull before I go and – I brought you something.” He pulled a box painted with pumpkins out of his pocket and offered it. “A gift. Not payment.”

Facilier took the box and set it on the table. “Thanks.” The last pink wisps of sunset were lingering on the horizon. Luxord usually left once the sun went down. So Facilier would eke out as much time with Luxord as he could. “Are you hungry?”

“Just for company,” Luxord murmured.

“I missed you too,” Facilier said. Luxord’s face was close enough that Facilier could see the plastic smoothness of his skin where pores should have been, the careful trimming of his goatee and mustache, the – the strange texture under his eyes. Facilier licked his thumb and wiped under it.

He came back with make up, and with a dark bag under Luxord’s eye. “What’s this?”

Luxord stiffened. “It’s nothing much. I simply wanted to look presentable…”

Facilier scrubbed at Luxord’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You look exhausted.” The makeup didn’t come off easily, but it came off.  “You don’t have to hide that, Luxord, I don’t care what you look like.”

“Oh.” Luxord deflated.

“Don’t oh me. You’re going to make me think you’re hiding injuries and then I’ll have to sit on you so I can treat them.”

“I can heal my injuries,” Luxord said. “I wouldn’t come here while wounded.”

“Maybe, but who’s the doctor around here? I am. Come on, sit down.” He spun Luxord around and sat him down. Got a bowl of water and heated it with his Fire materia. Found a clean dishtowel, wet it, and cupped Luxord’s face before gently cleaning it.

The make up came off in streaks of peach and black. Luxord’s thick eyelashes dripped dark before revealing themselves delicate and gold. Luxord leaned into the hot towel as Facilier stroked his face, and explored the crannies of his ears.

“I can see why you’d want to hide your eyes: you look exhausted,” Facilier said. “Dunno what that eyelash stuff was about.”

“It’s mascara and eyeliner, and they’re for looking nice,” Luxord muttered. “It’s not a matter of hiding things. I’ve worn them every time I visited.”

“Isn’t that for women?”

“Not in space.” Luxord sighed. “This is normal for space. If I knew it bothered you so much, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Facilier said. He dipped the washcloth in water again. “What bothered me was the thought you were hiding trouble from me. You’ve helped me and helped me and I hate having unpaid debts.”

“It’s not a debt! Those were gifts,” Luxord said.

Facilier put the washcloth over Luxord’s mouth. “There’s a point where there’s so many gifts that I want to pay it back, idiot. You’re my friend. I want you to be – whatever is the equivalent of happy to Nobodies.”

“Safe?”

“Safe. And able to sit down and not worry about your stupid family or the Heartless for five minutes. This hasn’t been about Heartless for a long time and we both know it.”

Luxord’s damp face glowed in the last dregs of the sunset and Facilier’s buzzing electric lights. His face had gone empty, not bothering to fake an emotion. “It’s not,” Luxord said. “We both know it.”

Their faces were close. Facilier could feel Luxord’s cool breath. His skin was soft and wet under his fingers.

It was easy to lean forward, just a little, and let their lips touch.

It was little more than a chaste touching of lips, but Facilier felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. He put his hands on the arms of the chair to steady himself.  

“This isn’t about the debt you feel, is it?” Luxord rasped. His eyes were closed.

“No. It’s not.”

“Not – an obligation – ”

“I wouldn’t do this unless I wanted to, Luxord.” Facilier swallowed heavily. “Men can’t get married here. And I’m not – someone who’s ever going to be good to marry. But…”

Luxord peeled his leather gloves off.

Dropped them.

Cupped Facilier’s face with his calloused hands and kissed him back.

It was, Facilier thought, a moment of perfection. It was somewhat ruined when Luxord haltingly asked, “What next?”

Facilier was very glad his skin was too dark to show a blush. “I don’t know. This is the furthest I’ve ever, ah, gone.”

“Myself as well.” Luxord looked away. “I mean. I never thought I would – that is to say, I had never met – it has never been a priority and I didn’t think it would come to pass.”

“I didn’t either. I’ve always been the unmarried cousin.” He sighed and sat in Luxord’s lap. Luxord wrapped around him like a needy cat, and Facilier ruffled his hair. “Doing things with a spaceman’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

“If it makes you happy, then yes,” Luxord said against Facilier’s shoulder.

“It does. I think it does.” Facilier kissed Luxord’s forehead. “I think I’m going to freak out about this once you leave and I realize what I just did.”

“Well. I’ll have to return promptly to fix that, won’t I? As quick as work allows.” Luxord chuckled.

“You better. If I’m going to tie my heart in a knot for a white-passing undead rich boy, he better show up more than twice a month.”

“I’ll do my best.” Luxord pulled a large bag of gemstones out of his pocket and put them on the table. “These should tide you over in case I can’t leave again. Advance payment for a month of heart searching.”

“Thank you.” Faciler patted Luxord’s head. “We really do need to rewrite that contract. No idea how yet, but we do.”

“We will. Until then, I’ll keep bringing gems because I want you to be able to afford food. You need more than all this skin on your bones or you’ll end up like Jack Skellington.” Luxord pinched Facilier’s side.

Facilier squawked and batted at his head. “If I’m Jack Skeleton then you’re the Easter Bunny!”

“I’ll bring you golden eggs!”

“You are a golden egg!”

Luxord was laughing, and Facilier found himself laughing too. He kissed Luxord’s nose, which redoubled Luxord’s laughter, and they sat there until Luxord wheezed himself dry.

“When I said you made me feel like I had a heart again at the party,” Luxord said quietly, “I was being literal. I – _feel_ – as I haven’t since I died when I’m near you.”

“I figured as much. You’ve gotten more lively since February,” Facilier said. “And you’ve been fixated on my heart since then, too.”

“Your heart is beautiful,” Luxord said. “I could tell from the moment we met.”

“Like an opal. I remember.”

“And although I have no interest in matters of the body, I have discovered you are aesthetically pleasing.”

Facilier bopped him. “You don’t have to make things up.”

“I’m not! You’re not as beautiful as the Superior is, certainly, but I’m not either.” Luxord grinned. “And I think your hair’s prettier than his.”

“I – what. What?!”  Facilier shook his head. “My hair’s not any good, Luxord. It’s all kinky and it’s a mess.”

“No. I’ll show you. I’ll prove it.” Luxord took out his magic mirror and tapped at it again, again, again, until he was in his photos and showed Facilier:

There was a man with one eye – Xigbar, probably. He had Luxord’s nose and Luxord’s grin, but there was no mistaking Xigbar for white with those eyes. His salt and pepper hair was tied back in a braid and his black leather Organization coat was unzipped a little too far to be coincidence.

Then there was the other one. Dark skin, wide nose. A smile as seductively sweet as molasses. Hazel eyes that glowed like the full moon on a cloudless night. Silver hair with the telltale texture of curls straightened with a hot iron, which fell around his face in a disarray too careful to be anything but contrived.

“That’s your boss?” Facilier breathed.

“Yes, that’s Xemnas.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that your all powerful, all knowing, elegantly beautiful boss is black!?”

Luxord blinked. “I didn’t know if he counted?”

“Yes, he counts! Look at him! He’s got Annette’s nose and my lips and I know he’s been at it with a hot iron!”

“Ok,” Luxord said. He looked back at his phone. “Would you like to see the rest of the Organization? It’s probably good for you to be able to recognize them, since they would only be here if I was in trouble.”

“That’s fair,” Facilier said. Luxord flipped through his phone and showed them off.

Xaldin, the acclaimed beauty and mechanic, was also black. He had a nose wider than Facilier’s and the kind of braids that Facilier had watched mothers weave into children’s hair since he was a babe. He was darker than Facilier, with full lips and eyes so grey they were almost purple, and Facilier hated him a little for being so beautiful.

Vexen could pass as white or Asian, and only an eye as keen as Facilier’s could spot that he ironed his hair. Lexaeus looked like one of the big, dark men from the Polyphi – the Philoge – the Philistines, Facilier decided, and wondered how dark Vexen and Lexaeus’s daughter was between them.

Zexion was as pale as a ghost, and his hair caught the light in a way that made it shimmer purple but it was definitely black, Facilier thought, because hair was not purple. Also, “He looks like he’s ten!”

“He truly is the baby of the family,” Luxord agreed. “He won’t be of age for another three years, after all.”

Facilier did some quick math in his head. “If he’s 17, then the age of adulthood in space is 20?”

“Yes! No marrying until you’re twenty, because otherwise you’re too young and, ah, unwise to make a good choice. Also, it’s unhealthy to carry children before then.”

“Then how do you deal with girls getting knocked up in their teens?”

“They’re called birth control rings and they’re almost 100% effective when both partners wear them,” Luxord said. “Also there’s rules about this kind of thing to prevent adults or older teens from manipulating younger ones, and – “

“You’re getting off topic.”

“Oh.”

Luxord swiped his phone, and Facilier’s eyes bugged out.

This time it was two men talking. The one had stony cheekbones, an X shaped scar between his eyes, bright hazel eyes, and brighter blue hair. The other had dusty brown skin, bright green eyes brought out by flashy eyeliner and tightly curled, firetruck red hair shaped into a flurry of spikes that cascaded down his back. Where the scarred one bore a face as set as a marble statue, the redhead wore the edge of a grin like a cape, face lit in a way that almost challenged his lack of heart.

“What happened. To. Their hair?”

“Saix’s folks emigrated from the fallen world Zeal a few generations ago. Blue hair is a dominant trait, so everyone who has Zeal ancestors has blue hair unless their other parent had black hair, at which point it becomes purple – ”

 “Luxord, stop talking.”

“And Axel’s family has always had redheads, which is apt because he’s lucky number 8 and red is a lucky color, and they say his great-great grandfather - “

“Now you’re just doing it to annoy me!”

“-fought a ghost that ate half of an entire planet and surviving that is very lucky –"

 “Give me your magic mirror!” Facilier swiped at the screen until a new picture popped up, then doubled over laughing on Luxord’s shoulder.

Luxord cackled. “And here is Marluxia, who dyes his hair!”

Marluxia did dye his hair. He dyed it the same luxurious pink of Charlotte LeBouf’s dresses, and had the sinister expression of a hungry dog. “One of those fluffy Chinese dogs.”

“I don’t know China?”

“It’s in Asia. Maybe it’s Quarantine Asia rather than Space Asia but – look. He looks like one of those little fluffy dogs that sucks up to you but then bites your ankle out when he gets mad.”

“Facilier, he could probably lift you with one hand. He uses a 20 pound weapon.”

“I’m telling you, he’s an untrustworthy dog type!”

“I agree with that. What I’m saying is that he’d be a big dog with huge muscles and terrible teeth. The man’s a head taller and 50 pounds heavier than I am.”

“Ok, so he’s a big fluffy Chinese dog that hates people. With a flat nose for snubbing you.”

“Accurate.” Luxord swiped to a new picture. “Larxene is white, I think, and I don’t know why you think Saix and Axel have strange hair when she literally has two prongs sticking off her head.”

Facilier tilted his head. “How did she do that?”

“I ask myself that every day.”

“Also, if space is so modern and new, why are there 11 men in your 12 person team?”

“Coincidence, mostly. We had more women once, and others; they all died on missions and we replaced them,” Luxord said. “And Father’s little boy science club were recruited in one swoop, so that’s six men in the positions right away. Axel and Saix died and became Nobodies at the same time, so that’s eight men. We were never going to have an equal number, and things have simply gotten more unbalanced as the years went by.”

“How many have died?”

“I don’t know. There were at least three No. X before me, and we’ve gone through nearly a dozen No. XII since I joined. Hunting Heartless is dangerous work.” Luxord fiddled with the photos on his magic mirror. “I don’t want to curtail your opportunities. However, I grow increasingly reluctant to recruit you.”

“So don’t. I’m more useful here, as your secret weapon.” Facilier kissed Luxord’s nose. “Show me Demyx.”

Demyx was a young man with a strange haircut (“Business in the front, party in the back,” Luxord said as if that explained anything) and a liar’s grin. The short video Luxord played added a watery laugh and fingers that moved over sitar strings too fast to see.

“Very fey,” Facilier said.

“Indeed. His father’s a Goblin King, after all.” Luxord wiggled his fingers daintily. “And that’s the twelve of us.”

“So I got the second best looking member of the Organization here,” Facilier said.

Luxord put a hand to his mouth, mock-offended. “Only number two?”

“Have you seen Xaldin?”

“That’s fair. We are, on average, a good looking Organization.”

“With exception of Larxene. That hair! Like she’s expecting to be plugged into a socket!”

“What about Marluxia? If you’re going to pretend to be the grim reaper by dying your hair pink and using a scythe, at least do it in a somewhat tasteful way.”

“Grim reapers are pink on your world?”

“Yes, because cherries are. See, cherries all bloom and then fall in the briefest time, which shows how life is ephemeral and everyone dies.”

“I can’t believe you just said that with a straight face.”

“I can’t help it that I can’t die even if I’m killed,” Luxord said with a completely straight face. “My life is so ephemeral I get to lose it multiple times.”

Luxord joking about dying make something sharp flash in Facilier’s chest. “Try and keep it to once, will you?” Facilier said. He put his hands on Luxord’s head and pressed down. “You wanted to know if there was a price for this. The price is not dying. Keep your silly self alive.”

“That’s something I can do.” Luxord took Facilier’s hand and kissed his wrist. “I’ll stay alive for you.”

“You’re such a sap,” Facilier said, and his cheeks burned. “Is that a promise?”

“I promise that I will stay alive for you.” A kiss. “I will stay at your side.” A kiss. “I will be your knight.”

“My what?!” Facilier’s voice cracked.

“Your knight.” Luxord tapped Facilier’s heart. “In the Triad tradition, sometimes children are born with incredible magic potential – a ‘sorceress.’ A fragment of power from one of the gods killed in the Keyblade Wars. These powers are, well, powerful, but having that much natural magic is stressful to both mind and body. They need a support network to depend on. And the one they’re closest to is the knight.”

“What, are you saying that I’m a tiny god?”

Luxord shook his head. “You may not be a sorceress, per se, but you’re a big fish in a little pond. You’re powerful, and your support network is terrible. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“So let me be your knight.” Luxord kissed Facilier’s wrist again. “I’ll protect you and you can make me live.”  

“It’s a deal.” Facilier kissed Luxord’s forehead. “Didn’t think someone would think I was worth protecting.”

“Then it’s a good thing we met. You deserve to be protected.” Luxord nuzzled Facilier’s palm.

Facilier chuckled. “That tickles.”

Luxord grinned into Facilier’s hand. “It took me a year to grow this mustache. It should tickle.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes longer. Luxord explored Facilier’s hands; Facilier explored Luxord’s face. Luxord looked almost content.

Then he looked out the window and Luxord’s face drained of color and light. “I need to go talk to the Bull and leave.”

“The time, the time,” Facilier said. “I know. Go get them.”

They carefully untangled from each other, and Facilier helped Luxord

 **Ahem.** The door to the staircase pushed open, and the Bull peeked out. **I am here if you desire me.**

Luxord’s hand flew to his jacket’s zipper, just under his collarbone. “Were you eavesdropping on us?”

**This is technically my house as well. I was simply curious if you wished to make a deal tonight and was waiting for an opportune moment.**

Facilier quickly smoothed out his shirt. “They come poking around like a cat now and then. It’s not like they’re going to judge like the other ones.”

Luxord took a step in front of Facilier as the Bull floated forward. “There’s some things humans like to keep private.”

 **You did not appear to be engaging in anything private. The others have taught me about human reproductive cycles.** The Bull’s wooden eyebrows rose as Luxord withdrew his cards. **Have I misunderstood?**

Facilier swooped in front of Luxord and shoved his card hand down. “It’s nothing, nothing. He’s just a private person. He’s embarrassed you caught him being all cutesy poo when he wants to seem like a tough negotiator.”

**Oh. That is no matter. We already know that Luxord would be displeased if we threatened you. I expect if we tried, he would kill three of us before we killed you. We have agreed it would be a poor negotiating tactic.**

Luxord’s arm wrapped protectively around Facilier’s waist. “You’re wrong. I’ll destroy all seven of you.”

**How bold. Did you not say only a keyblade could kill beings like us?**

“Then I’ll take the keybearer’s ship and crash it between your eyes.”

**Very dashing.**

“Hey, hey can we not have a magic measuring contest with me as the prize?” Facilier snapped.

Luxord wrapped his other arm around Facilier, and Facilier felt Luxord’s head press against the side of his shoulder as the shorter man peered around him. “I’m certainly not reacting emotionally, as I am not capable of emotions. I’m just stating a fact that such machinations will not be tolerated.”

 **Of course. We’re both powerful creatures of darkness. We don’t need to cheat each other.** The Bull’s mouth opened with one of Luxord’s old Heartless trap decks. **So, did you need something from us?**

Luxord let go of Facilier reluctantly. “Do you have any Heartless ready?”

**Yes. We’ve had time to perfect this one – a little Soldier that can turn invisible.**

“Perfect.” Luxord stacked up decks of cards full of monsters in his hand and offered it to Bull.  “Here’s payment, a tip for Facilier, Heartless to use, a wrecked boat and a metal robot someone tried to stick a heart into. See if you can animate something with some of these things.”

 **A challenge**! Bull’s eyes lit up. **I’ll see what we can whip up!**

“Good. The Superior is quite eager to see what I bring back today.” Luxord wiggled the deck with the invisible soldier in it. “I look forward to seeing your skills once more.”

**You are most welcome. Now go: the sun is well below the horizon.**

Facilier checked the window; time had escaped them. The moon was already beginning to claw her way into the sky. “Your curfew, Luxord.”

“I know,” Luxord sighed. “I’ll try to return soon. Stay safe, Lazare.”

“C’mere, I’ll give you a good luck charm,” Facilier said. Luxord turned to him and Facilier kissed him one last time. Luxord’s tensed shoulders shifted down; Facilier felt him pop onto his toes to get more leverage, to sneak a second kiss from the side of Facilier’s mouth. Facilier smiled and gently pushed his shoulders. “Now get going.”

A Nobody could not feel, Luxord said, but the expression on Luxord’s face seemed genuinely bittersweet. “I will.”

He was up the ladder and out in a flash, closing the trapdoor behind him with a gentle click. With that, Facilier collapsed into a chair, boneless.

 **Is this what humans call romance?** Bull asked.

“Aren’t you over five hundred years old?” Facilier asked. “Wouldn’t you know that by now?” He took the box Luxord had brought for him and turned it over and over in his hands. There was a handle on one side; he began to turn it as Bull spoke.

**I do not live among humans unless one has made a deal with me. Of those, only two have made a claim at romance and those were both different than this. I have not had much to study.**

“Oh? What two were they?”

**Gator and Poisoner. Gator ate his wife when he turned. Poisoner kept her love secret in notes and meetings until her partner died.**

Facilier made a face. “ _Ate_ her? Why would you do that?”

**He said it was very romantic.**

“No, no, that’s horrible. That is not romantic. Poisoner is romantic but Gator is the opposite of romance.” Facilier kept on winding the box as the mask slowly floated to ‘sit’ next to him. “Didn’t anyone give you the Talk?”

**How is romance different from friendship?**

“Do I look like I know? They’re real close.” Facilier paused his winding to put his hands together. “Like that. You’re old; I should be asking you this stuff.”

**I am not a human. Creatures like me do not feel love. They feel hunger.**

“Maybe that’s why he ate her.” Facilier wound the box two more times, and it sprung open with an off-key jingle. A little skeleton in a tuxedo offered Facilier a sprig of delicate dried blue flowers. Facilier’s breath caught in his throat.

**What are those?**

“Forget-me-nots,” Facilier said.  “The baron with a bouquet of forget-me-nots.”

**Is that love?**

“Nobodies are unable to love. They don’t have hearts,” Facilier said, and he gave the little skeleton a kiss before closing the box. “But that doesn’t mean they can’t _try_.”

 **To love means to try?** Bull’s mask tilted in confusion.

“Something like that,” Facilier said, and he put the box aside. “It’s some magical mystery, alright? I’m as new to this as you are.”

 **Fairly stated.** **I will not ask more.** The Bull pirouetted slowly, then sank down to the arm of Facilier’s chair with an unstated question.

Facilier eyed Bull, then reached over and ran a hand over the top of their mask. Bull’s nightblack true form bled out of the mask and became spine and flesh under Facilier’s hand; the great Heartless curled around the chair like a contented dog as Facilier pet them.

* * *

 

There were five waiting in the great white room Where Nothing Gathers. Xemnas was in the highest white chair, a blur of black and silver from Luxord’s vantage point on the floor. Saix was at his right hand, his eyes on his clipboard, while Lexaeus, Vexen and Zexion bored holes into Luxord’s back with their gazes.

“Superior, Scientists, and Saix!” Luxord said, and raised his arms. “I have come to prove that my grant for Bayou Boulevard is worth continuing for the entirety of the six months I requested!”

“Continue, No. X!” Xemnas boomed. “Show us your findings!”

“It better be good to interrupt my schedule like this,” Vexen added.

“Superior, I have given you a program on your magic mirror,” Luxord said. He hoped he’d planned his stratagem well. (Of course it would, he told himself. He had his lucky charm kiss. ) “Have you uploaded the feed to the camera?”

“I have.”

“Good. Now, I will unleash a Heartless with a camera attached to it,” Luxord said. He took his card trap out and released the Heartless he’d gotten from Bull the night before.

“I see nothing,” Lexaeus said.

“That’s the point,” Luxord said. “Xemnas, are you getting a camera feed?”

Xemnas nodded and tossed his phone to Saix. Saix watched, then threw it to Lexaeus. Lexaeus frowned, then gave it to Zexion.

“What’s filming this?” Zexion asked.

“The Heartless I just released,” Luxord said. “Thundaga!”

Lightning sparked through the room – one bolt hit the Heartless, turning the small armored creature visible. Luxord held it up to Zexion so that the camera he’d taped to it’s head was staring at him. “Let me introduce you to what we can use to watch Sora on Hollow Bastion without Maleficent catching on.”

“An invisible soldier,” Lexaeus said, and nodded. “I understand your plan.”

“Bayou Boulevard has one of a kind Heartless we can study – and use. I think it’s viable to keep visiting for at least two more months.” Enough time for summer to kiss fall. Enough time for him to build up more evidence to lengthen his stay.

“Then it shall be done,” Xemnas said. “Keep up the good work. I shall allow it to continue.”

“Superior!” Zexion said.

“If this were merely a matter of rank disputes, I would allow it,” Xemnas said. “However, Luxord has found a rich seam of Heartless to mine. Find another way to punish him for your dispute.”

Luxord bowed 90 degrees and tossed the Heartless back into the trap. “Thank you, Superior. I will not disappoint you.”

He used a dark portal to leave the chamber once he was dismissed and waited at the door to Saix’s offices, where the Berserkers took orders on how to command their units of Dusks and Creepers and did paperwork while they recovered from berserking. Saix showed up after ten minutes, and Luxord bowed to him deeply as Saix asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Saix, I wanted to discuss internal affairs with you. Privately. I believe your help is the coin that will tip the odds in my favor,” Luxord said.

Saix’s golden eyes dug into Luxord’s face; Luxord kept himself composed until Saix nodded. “Fine. Come with me.”

Luxord allowed his Gamblers to decorate their desks with little things. They usually picked shiny rocks, casino chips, dried flowers – sentimental objects that could be hidden if one of Saix’s Berserkers or Xemnas’s Sorcerers came in to check on them. The desks of Saix’s Berserkers were adorned with paper, pens, and nothing else, as austere as the man who ran them.

“What do you want?” Saix asked once he and Luxord were alone in grey-walled room.

“I’ve finished the audit on Marluxia’s stay at Castle Oblivion.” Luxord pulled out a data storage crystal and offered it to Saix. “I’ve made a copy of what I found. He’s stealing things from the Organization.” Saix raised an eyebrow. “More than what II through VI steal.” More than what you steal too, Luxord didn’t say. “Enough that he may become a threat to us.”

Saix didn’t take the crystal. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You, Xaldin and Zexion control where money goes in the Organization. I merely set up the means of transporting that money. Xaldin only works with the mechanical side of things, and I believe Marluxia’s plans encompass both scientific theft and managerial theft, which leaves you and Zexion. And Zexion,” Luxord said with a face as pale and hard as porcelain, “is a 17 year old little boy who doesn’t take me seriously and prefers to play with science rather than work for the good of all of us. He wouldn’t acknowledge this, and that could get us all killed. You’re smart enough to know that we have to quash inside threats before they can become threats, and I’m sure Xemnas would recognize your wisdom in doing so.”

“This is blatant flattery,” Saix said, “but you’re not wrong.” He took the crystal in one calloused hand. “I accept this, and I’ll read it and inform Xemnas of your findings. Consider yourself on my good side until further notice.”

“Thank you, Saix.” Luxord bowed again. When he popped back up, Saix had the barest twitch upon his lips: the closest Luxord had seen of a smile from him.

“I will tell you if I need more from you,” Saix said. “I had not expected you to go against your brother.”

“The Organization is more important than our individual squabbles,” Luxord said. “Besides, the sooner we get our hearts back, the sooner we can leave.”

“Your optimism knows no bounds,” Saix deadpanned. “Go. We will continue this later.”

“Thank you,” Luxord said, and he left, and he thought _the sooner I get my heart back, the sooner I can leave for Facilier._


	21. Day -21: Olympus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! I"m going to attempt to do a monthly update from now on, but we'll see how that goes. |D'

“Are you ready for some magic lessons?” Luxord asked as he hopped down the ladder two rungs at a time. “I’ve brought a little something for target practice!”

Facilier groaned. Luxord clattered to the floor of Facilier’s bedroom and looked around. He wasn’t in the kitchen cluttered with dirty pots and unwashed dishes, or the clothing-cluttered floor, or the bathroom.

He was lying on the bed, cocooned in one light blanket with one bare foot sticking out in deference to the clinging heat.

“Facilier?”

“Luxord,” Facilier muttered, and peered out from the blankets. His hair had curled tight from the humidity and cast shadows over his eyes.  “I’m in no shape for magic today. You may as well leave.”

“Are you sick?” Luxord asked. He sat at the bed, removed a glove and offered his hand.

“Something like that,” Facilier said. He wriggled out of the blankets and took Luxord’s hand; his skin burned like embers. “It’s been a damn week, and my knee feels like someone took a hammer to it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Luxord asked. “If not, you can do some target practice to burn off your ire.”

“I may take you up on that,” Facilier said, “in a half an hour.” He placed his head on Luxord’s lap and guided Luxord’s hand to one skinny shoulder. “This world is hell.”

Luxord petted his arm in long, slow strokes. This was not a time to speak. Even if Facilier’s heart did not echo a thunderous agony in his chest, his face was taut with it. To speak here would be out of place.

Their training could wait.

Ten minutes of silence. Fifteen. Luxord sweated under his armor until Facilier spoke.

“Do you remember Ben, from the party?”

“I do,” Luxord said. He thought of a little boy whose face was round with baby fat and framed by dark, thick curls. He was still small enough to sit on his mother’s lap. He’d showed off the ice lotus that was the climax of Luxord’s magic show, and he’d broken off two cold petals with the abandon that only children had.

“Four days ago, a white man hit him and his mama with his car while they were walking to church. Drove off. They called me in to help because sometimes I can – they think voudou can work miracles. Mrs. Freeman’s just got a broken leg but Ben – his neck – he was too small, so fragile, he was dead the minute he hit the ground. The funeral is tomorrow. His mother and father.” Facilier’s voice cracked. “They asked me to put hoodoo on the grave. To keep it safe. They’re both Catholics, but they wanted to make sure he’d be fine. He was – he – he’d just had his fourth birthday, a couple months ago, and I sold them oranges for the party.”  

Luxord listened. He was a Nobody and Nobodies could not feel grief or sympathy. He had known the boy for eight hours. If moisture dripped from his face, it was because of the heat. If his chest ached, it was the echo of Facilier’s heart.

“He’s going to get away with it. No one cares what white people do to us. Ben’s dead and he was only four and no one cares!”

“I care,” Luxord said. His mind clicked together. Stop and Slow were not illegal spells. He’d learned them by heart. Cars were swift vehicles. Fire contained in metal and wire. Get the timing right and the problem would be solved. “Do you know who did this?”

Facilier wiped his face. “I do. I – why are you asking?”

“Tell me where to find him,” Luxord said. “This won’t happen again.”

* * *

 

The man was a foreman and was working on some kind of sky-scraping building. Luxord thought it was rather quaint; you couldn’t get very many materials by scraping the sky.

Dark portals meant he could zip around from place to place without being seen. It was a very white construction site. There were many safety measures in place.

They did not have magic in mind.

Luxord had killed before. The Organization had to knock down a few dominoes to get the Heartless ball rolling on some worlds. Axel was good at the bloody stuff, but Luxord was better at going unnoticed until the time was right. Prepare the dominoes, then take the stage and knock them down when the clock hit twelve.

Ice under a pile of bricks on a slope; enough to make them slide, little enough to evaporate before being found. A little wind summoned to give the pile a gentle push. The foreman frozen with a Stop spell before he could move out of the way.

Retribution hit him with half a ton of brick.

Nobodies could not feel emotion. However, a good job well done was the kind of state of mind that left a clean feeling, like shucking off an old skin. Luxord snapped a photo with his magic mirror and then stepped into a dark portal.

* * *

 

Facilier had gotten to the new clothing stage of getting out of bed when Luxord clattered down the ladder again.

“So, what did you do?” Facilier asked.

Luxord pulled out his magic mirror and showed Facilier what he had done, explained. There would be no trace of magic to lead back to Facilier. No sign of foul play to put blame on his community. If the man lived, it would be a long recovery, full of suffering. Neither backs nor heads were meant to bend like that.

Facilier wiped his eyes as the tears started again. “Thank you,” was all he managed. His relief was like cold water on a dying fire.

Luxord sat with him and held him.

* * *

 

“This is called okayu,” Luxord said as he spooned the rice porridge out of the pot into two bowls, then cracked an egg into each of them. He added the green onions and carrots he’d julienned earlier, the diced dried fish, then sprinkled red pepper on Facilier’s dish. “It’s a popular dish on Radiant Garden, considered as good for the sickly as the chicken soup, and can be garnished with basically anything you feel like.”

“So you’re calling me a sick child?” Facilier said, but he was smiling.

“It’s a comforting food, and it only takes half an hour to make. It’s a good standby,” Luxord replied, and started slurping okayu straight out of his bowl. Facilier watched, then copied him, bowl held high in his slim fingers.

“What do you if you have a big thing of food that you can’t cut? You don’t have knives, do you?” Facilier asked.

“We don’t have those. Food is chopped into chopstick-sized pieces during preparation, or it’s soft enough to cut with them.” Luxord shrugged. “It’s been years since I used fork and knife. No point in practicing for diplomacy if I’m in the Organization.”

“Of course,” Facilier said, and Luxord saw a question posed and filed away in the twitch of his eyes. Luxord sighed and took another sip of okayu, focusing on the warmth and softness of it, the thickness of the porridge heightened with the salt of the fish.

They ate.

Luxord caught a movement in the corner of his eye and half-turned in his chair. One of the smaller Friend masks had floated into the kitchen; this one had long hair or a beard that hung below their chin and shadows under their eyeholes **. Lazare, Nothing Man, are you busy?**

“Nah,” Facilier said, and gestured the mask over. “Come on over. Luxord, this is the only mask worth talking to.”

“Is that so? It took some time for you to introduce us.”

“She’s far busier than the others,” Facilier said as the mask pulled her body out into the pitch-black flesh of the Heartless. She wore an apron over her long dress that wrapped around a wasp waist; she had sharp knuckles and a softly tapering chin like only the elderly developed. What Luxord had thought was a beard was hair loosely tied back over one shoulder. She did not remove the mask but tipped it up to reveal cracked lips and green stained teeth.

“Luxord, this is the Poisoner.”

“My pleasure,” Luxord said, and offered his hand. She shook it; her hand had the same gummy texture of a normal Heartless, and Luxord kept his face still. “I don’t believe we’ve spoken before.”

**Mmm, no. An old lady like me spends a lot of time resting and reading rather than getting her joints sore.**

 “Would I be correct in assuming you are as skilled with herbal remedies as Facilier?”

**You would be. I lived the longest of any of the Friends, and I served as a midwife to the other slaves at my Master’s mansion in life.**

Luxord’s eyebrows raised. Slave, then, meant she was old, that she had lived her entire life before the Civil War Facilier had spoken of, and that she was black like Facilier. Her lips looked like Facilier’s, and her hair curled like Facilier’s, and her nails were green with herbal stains like Facilier’s, and Luxord could see why Facilier would like her so.

“I see. I beg your pardon, but I’m not familiar with all the etiquette here. What would you prefer I call you?”

**Miss Poisoner will be just fine, white boy. I like your manners.**

“Thank you, Miss Poisoner.” Luxord gave her a half-bow, then steepled his fingers. “How may I help you?”

**You’ve caught Lazare when he’s in no shape to talk, so I want your time and your youthful fingers. I want you to tell me what a Heartless is and if it’s a ghost or a demon, and to write it all down so I can show the others.**

“If you can show me where to get pencil and paper, I’ll get started.”

The door to the stairs creaked open, and Bull floated out with a sheaf of yellowing papers and a pencil in their mouth. Luxord carefully didn’t react as they offered him the paper and pencil; he simply took them and began his lecture. Bull settled between Poisoner and Lazare as Luxord sketched out a brief diagram.

“The Heartless, demons, and ghosts are all very different beings. Now, we first must define these things before we can begin comparing them.

"In my language, demons - _yokai_ \- are a general term for all supernatural beings that are not undead, heartless, or transformed humans. These can range from dolls that come to life on their 100 th birthday to animals that have shapeshifted into human form – not to be confused with Disnets or aliens, of course. Yokai don’t have a single confirmed form, a known way of reproduction, or a singular homeworld. Since they don’t tend to leave bodies and don’t volunteer to be experimented on, it’s been very difficult for science to understand them.”

“Who volunteers to be experimented on?” Facilier joked.

“Humans,” Luxord explained. “My homeland was a center of scientific progress. My father would run experiments and ask for volunteers, and pay those who would join in. We were the capitol of medical magic advancements before the heartless.”

Facilier had not expected that answer; it was written all over his face. “Is that so? They got dissected?”

“No, no! They’ll take a medicine to see if it cures their sickness, or wear a magic crown to measure how they sleep,” Luxord said. “Simple things. No dissections.” That hadn’t started until the Organization had formed.

“Now, ghosts are one form of the undead, which we define as a manifestation of the heart and soul of a dead person which does not leave the World of Light – which is this world, where humans live.

“A living being is made of a body, a soul and a heart. You use heart and soul interchangeably here, but they’re different things.” Luxord drew a diagram. “The body is self explanatory. The heart is made of light and darkness, and gives you emotion and self-hood. The soul is generated by the combination of body and heart, and creates your personality. When you die, your body ceases to work, your heart goes to the World of Darkness to Kingdom Hearts, where hearts are generated, and no one is sure where a soul – “

 **Slow down,** said the Poisoner.

“What,” Facilier said.

 **I do not understand,** said the Bull.

“What do you need explained?” Luxord asked.

“All of it.” Facilier waved his hands. “You brought in like five new things you never told me about before! And you’re telling me that this Kingdom Hearts thing is the afterlife?!”

“No, no, the afterlife is where the soul goes, Kingdom Hearts is for hearts, they’re very distinct – and if people could visit heaven, there would be far more dead gods than we already have lurking in the depths of the universe – Facilier, why are you giving me that look?! I am related to scientists who study the heart and this is all quoting their studies!”

 **Is Heaven real?** The Poisoner asked.

Luxord shrugged. “That’s between you and the gods you worship.”

 **Does this mean human religion is fake?** The Bull asked.

“Absolutely not,” Luxord said. “Well, perhaps, but that’s an entirely different discussion than the one we’re having. All the heart scientists I know were religious, and were even from different religions.”

“I want to go back to that thing about dead gods later,” Facilier said, “But first I need you to explain this Kingdom Hearts thing. I swear you told me that Kingdom Hearts makes hearts a couple months ago.”

“That’s right.”

“Ok, but what _is_ Kingdom Hearts?”

“That’s the question science has pursued for 400 years. No one knows.”

“But you said –“

“We know what it _does_. We don’t’ know what it _is_. We don’t know _where_ it is. We only know it exists because of it’s recorded use in the Keyblade Wars and from studying the damage it caused to the universe.” Luxord scribbled on his paper. “It’s like how you know there’s a chocobo around because of all the feathers on the ground even though the chocobo isn’t there.”

 **You’ve gone off-task,** the Bull rumbled. **Go back to the ghosts.**

“Ghosts, yes,” Luxord said. “Ghosts are dead people whose souls won’t leave the world because they are upset about how they died. They’re a difficult phenomenon to study since it’s unethical and highly dangerous to, ah, do science to them. Also, if you are killed by certain kinds of ghosts, like onryo, you’ll become one yourself.”

**Define onryo.**

“An onryo is one of the most dangerous kinds of ghosts. You remember them with the four Gs: a Ghost with a Grudge that Goes beyond the Grave. This means that even if you give the ghost’s original body a proper cremation and tomb, the onryo won’t rest like other ghosts will. The original soul gets consumed by their anger and despair; those the onryo kills become part of the onryo, and the ghost becomes bigger and stronger and angrier each time.”

“So if these ghosts are so terrible, how do you get rid of them?” Facilier said. “And why aren’t ghosts here so dangerous?”

“Well, maybe one in 100 people becomes a ghost, and of 100 ghosts, one becomes an onryo. Most of the harmless ghosts won’t leave wherever they haunt, while onryo travel. And most onryo aren’t recognizable as human after they get big. Like – what’s the weather like here? Do you have large storms, flooding, freak lightning strikes?”

 **New Orleans is on the coastline. We’ve always had hurricanes and flooding** , the Poisoner said with a shrug.

 **It’s been like that for the past 200 years,** the Bull added. **If we were accumulating ghosts like that, the weather would be far worse after all the death this world has been through. Blood has soaked the soil like rain.**

“Cheerful, ain’t you two?” Facilier muttered.

“Very,” Luxord said. “And as for getting rid of them – you first must first destroy their physical shells in combat, then exorcise their souls. Different religions have different rituals, but they serve the same purpose – to sever their ties to the World of Light, the world of the living, and make them pass on.”

 **So do all religions have this power?** the Bull asked.

“All of them that I know of, although different ones put different priorities on exorcism. The Church of Light’s chosen keybearers are considered the most efficient exorcists. The moogle cult of the God-Eater’s Tower has powerful exorcists, too, but for other reasons I think you’ll find obvious.” Luxord made the sign of the Triad at the mention of the dead god that had destroyed the moogle homeworld.

**They eat ghosts?**

“It might be a metaphor. I don’t know. They keep the secrets of their exorcisms, well, secret, but it’s known that they come out of exorcisms stronger than they went in.”

**Why are there no moogles in the Quarantine? What is a moogle? Are there moogles in your Organization?**

“Moogles are one of the aliens who helped humanity after the Smallpox Wars. They didn’t live in the Quarantine, so they’re not stuck here. About 5/6 of those killed by the Heartless were human, so the majority of my Organization is human.”

 **We’ve gone off topic,** said Poisoner. **Tell us about Heartless.**

Luxord nodded. “The Heartless are living darkness which seek to become sentient beings by gaining a heart. However, having no ‘light’, they can only hoard hearts inside of themselves. In the universe, only one Heartless with a personality has ever existed…save for you seven. You’re quite the anomaly.”

 **I was born as the fragment of one much bigger,** Bull rumbled **. I remember being one of many, and then one of one, and the movement of stars as the egg holding me flew toward the light.**

“Pure Heartless often reproduce by splitting or by laying eggs,” Luxord said. “I’d love to hear more about your early recollections.”

**They are few in number. As a human is born only knowing hunger, as was I. It was only through long passage of time that I became as I am.**

“Will you repay my knowledge of yokai with tales of your youth? The formation of your Friends?”

**Perhaps not that much, but other things. I will repay you with what I recall of my great parent, and the passage of my youth.**

“You’ll have to excuse me, y’all,” Facilier said as he wobbled to his feet. “I’m liable to fall asleep at this rate. I’m going to go take a nap.”

“Go on. I’ll wake you before I leave,” Luxord replied softly.

* * *

 

Facilier’s sleep was peppered with snippets of the conversation. Eggs and darkness and whatever. Perhaps that affected his dreams:

He was back on the world with black sand and black sky lit only by luminescent blue crystals. The ground was still flooded with small creatures that milled around like ants. The sound of waves lapped against his ears.

YOU RETURN.

“You’re the one who’s back. You’re the one in my dreams, after all.” Facilier spun as he floated far above the ground. “And before we begin, let’s not try anything about making me join your kingdom like last time.”

AS LONG AS YOU DO NOT LEAVE SO SUDDENLY AGAIN. THERE’S LITTLE ELSE TO DO HERE IN THIS HOLLOW KINGDOM.

“If there’s nothing to do here, why don’t you leave?”

THE WAY OUT IS SEALED. ONLY ANTS MAY LEAVE. A KING SUCH AS I IS TRAPPED UNTIL THE DOOR IS OPENED.

“And so you’re stuck making grabby hands at any innocent old boy who walks into your dreams. I got it.” Facilier spun in midair, but saw no sign of the self proclaimed king. Just darkness and more darkness. And he thought – he’d just gotten a lesson on ghosts and heartless and all of that. It wasn’t polite to ask if someone was a demon, but if a creature truly was plaguing his dreams…..

“So, your majesty, are you a ghost? Or might you be some kind of Heartless?”

I WALK THE LINE BETWEEN THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. MY KINGDOM WILL HAVE NO END.

“You’re a blasphemer, I see, but that’s neither ghost nor Heartless.”

I AM THE ONE WHO BUILDS A TOWER. I AM THE ONE WHO BREATHES LIFE INTO MUD. I AM THE ONE WHO BRINGS TIME TO A HALT. I HAVE SEVEN WINGS AND ONE ARM WHOSE BLADE SCREAMS RETRIBUTION.

That sounded like another quote – probably from one of the space religions Facilier didn’t know. And if the tower in them was anything like the Tower in tarot, that was the ghost saying he was like space Satan or some nonsense.

And Facilier had thought Luxord was the most pretentious person in his life. Well, playing off of Luxord meant that Facilier knew how to deal with this thing. Probably.

“Well then, towering majesty, are you the kind of creature that steals the hearts of the living or one who is tethered to them by the ties of the past?”

A long pause.

BOTH. I AM BOTH.

 “Very helpful,” Facilier deadpanned. “Just great. Lovely. So are you a ghost shaped like a Heartless or a Heartless shaped like a ghost?”

WHAT WOULD YOU SAY A GHOST IS SHAPED LIKE?

“They wear bedsheets and go boo,” Facilier deadpanned.

A BEDSHEET. HOW QUAINT. I WILL BRING ONE NEXT TIME, MY GUEST.

“Not yours,” Facilier said, and then he felt the sudden weight of falling falling falling –

 “Facilier, wake up.”

Facilier groaned as Luxord patted his shoulder. “I’m up, I’m up,” he said, sat up. “Getting weirder and weirder dreams these days.”

“An active mind prompts an active sleep,” Luxord said. “You’ve had a busy week with that funeral.”

“I really have.”

“I need to go. I’ve gotten my last batch of Heartless from the Friends, and the sooner my Superior can have them, the better.”

“And the sooner you can come back,” Facilier said. He sat up properly to look at Luxord – as earnest as a cat offering his owner a dead mouse as he sat at the foot of his bed. He looked as though he was ready to sit himself down like one of the strays Facilier sometimes fed in the alley.

He looked like he wanted to stay. If Luxord wasn’t in such a rush, Facilier would ask him to.

“I’ll be at your side as soon as I can be,” Luxord said, and he bowed his head to Facilier, kissing his hand like courtier to king. Facilier didn’t look up from that hand even as Luxord left, his footsteps echoing.

To think, Facilier thought, that he had such a monster, such a man, at his beck and call.

* * *

 

The first thing Luxord did was bring the Heartless to the Superior.

“The Heartless have inhabited this set of machinery brought from Halloween Town. This nesting process suggests that this false heart they created could have enough lingering power for our research. They’ve also inhabited these toy boats I brought, which may indicate there’s a Possessor that we can harvest – ”

“Very good,” Xemnas said, and he waved his hand. “Take it to Vexen.”

“Is that all, Superior?”

“I am focusing on plans regarding the keyblade.” Xemnas’s eyes did not so much look at Luxord as through him, to his other plans. Just as Luxord had expected. Nothing changed in this place.

“Of course.” Luxord bowed and opened a portal, walked through the dark world, came out at Vexen’s lab.

The turtle-like Paladins were used to Luxord showing up with new samples by now. They waved him through the door and into a set of corridors to the labs where Vexen and Zexion kept the Heartless they experimented on.

There were perhaps 50 pens for the Heartless in active use, each with a magic transparent honeycomb barrier enspelled between them and freedom. Zexion was in one pen, calmly dodging the attacks of a Heartless that looked like a 20-foot glob of black mold with beady golden eyes. Vexen was outside another, ignoring the way the small pink monkey Heartless were beating their little fists against the barrier.

“I have more test subjects for you. I’ve filled out all the paperwork already, No. IV,” Luxord said, and bowed again to Vexen. He popped up with a guileless smile. “I can see that you’re busy. I can put these in the pens myself if you let me stow the paperwork with you.”

“Of course, of course,” Vexen said, his eyes not straying from the magic mirror he was typing results into. “Go downstairs, there’s some empty pens there.”

“Thank you,” Luxord said, and bowed. Down the stairs he went, down to the next level of Heartless penned up.

It was easy enough to drop one pen’s barrier and put his Heartless in, then raise it. Easier still to drop another barrier to another pen of newly found Heartless and drop a card in. Cast the trap spell. Trap one. Take the card. Barrier up. Rinse and repeat.

A Heartless that came up to his knee with a horn for a mouth that tooted healing music.

A Heartless like a man-sized sunflower that shot seeds from its face.

A large lizard Heartless that could turn invisible and its mate.

There were plenty of subjects. Vexen wouldn’t miss two missing Heartless from several dozen. Not when he had so many new Heartless to experiment on. And Luxord’s inventory would confirm that they had this many Heartless, and never more.

He slipped the trap cards into his pocket and walked out of the lab, bowing to Vexen one more time.

“It’s nice to see you being so polite,” Vexen chirped.

“I’ve learned my lesson about how to talk to my superiors,” Luxord said guilelessly. The cards were burning a hole in his pocket. “A gambler knows when not to pursue a game you cannot win.”

* * *

 

He ate dinner with his Gamblers in a cafeteria with grey walls. Nobodies did not _need_ to eat, but the act of it increased a Nobody’s strength and stamina. Lexaeus’s behemoth-like Geomancers grew fields of soy and rice that was processed into tofu and rice gruel that fed the Nobodies who guarded the castle. Luxord, as one of Xemnas’s direct subordinates, was allowed to bring real food into the kitchens, but the Gamblers appreciated him eating with them. They chattered soft nothings about their day and slid gossip to his ears. Sometimes he brought them hot sauce and there was much rejoicing.

The cards stayed in his pocket. There was no chance of them bursting, but Luxord could not stop imagining if one of the Heartless would emerge, bust out, blowing a horn and Luxord’s cover.

Nothing happened.

He slept on a white bed in a white room. He kept the cards in a pocket close to his chest.

Nothing happened.

“As discussed, Luxord, you’re assigned to sell gummi blocks and jewels in exchange for mythril shards in Agrabah,” Saix said.

“I’ve prepared my supplies,” Luxord said. “I’ll head out now, before it gets hot.”

“Good. I’ll see you at curfew.”

A short walk to Agrabah and the tunnels that lead to their smuggler’s market. Buying. Selling. The heat was enough to soak Luxord through his coat.

He finished obtaining the needed mythril before the sun reached her apex in the sky.

On a normal day, he’d go to the library, then return for the curfew claiming that trade had taken all day. Easy enough to eke out some free time away from the others.

Instead, Luxord opened a portal and walked through the silvery sand of the dark world. What would have been a two-day trip by ship was only 10 minutes, and soon Luxord emerged in a sandy grove just outside Olympus Coliseum.

The weather was always perfect in Thebes. A power greater than magic kept the humidity levels low enough to avoid a sweat but present enough that the crowds could cheer for hours without suffering dry throat. The crops were bountiful and full, the gifts of a satisfied goddess; as Luxord approached the pomegranate trees, he appreciated the heavy limbs, the brilliant leaves, the deep red of the fruits. When he plucked one, it was big enough that he had to use both hands to lower it safely. Then Luxord pulled out a steel card and slid it around the fruit, slicing away the skin to reveal the bloody seeds within. Luxord carefully plucked one and ate it. Then another. Another. Until his mouth was stained red, teeth pink, tongue tart.

The sun had moved behind the clouds by the time Luxord felt the air grow unseasonably hot. The humidity drained away until Luxord could feel the sweat being drained from his pores. There was a pressure as if from a hurricane’s winds, and yet the air was still.

“Lord Hades,” he said without turning, and gripped the half-eaten fruit. “I am honored to be in your presence.”

“You know, I thought that I had made it clear the last time you bozos showed up that I didn’t want any black coats hanging around my Coliseum.”

An enormous hand with bony fingers wrapped around Luxord’s shoulder. Although it was not literally on fire, Luxord could feel the heat through his thick leather coat. Hades’ enormous shadow loomed over his shoulder, and Luxord didn’t have to look to know that his shoulder only came just above Hades’ waist, could feel the heavy fabric of Hades’ sleeve brushing against the back of his head.

If he had a heart, there might be fear. But a Nobody had no heart; and if there could be fear, how could it be greater than what he had seen yesterday, in Facilier’s tear-rimmed eyes?

“I don’t intend to hang around. I have an offer for you. You can say yes or no to it, and then I will leave.”

“You _do_ know that I’m married, right?”

“Of course,” Luxord said. “That’s why I came here.”

There was a sudden rush of cool as Hades withdrew his hand. “Ok, back up. You’re here because I’m married? Look, buddy, Mr. Black Coat, we got engaged through eating a pomegranate, so I don’t know why you’re here in my garden stealing them unless you want to join the party.”

Luxord spun around and shook his head rapidly, waving his hands. “Oh, no, that is the wrong, that was not supposed to – I’m here for a trade! Everyone who’s done statescraft with Olympus has heard that your wife has to live away from the Underworld year-round to keep the weather appropriate for the Coliseum! Unless you win it! I want to help you win it!”

Hades pursed his lips. The Lord of the Dead was twice Luxord’s height and then some, broad shouldered, with a hawkish nose and sclera the color of fresh sulfur. The blue flame that rippled under his skin was tinged with brighter yellow and orange in places – in his hair, his fingers, and dissipating in his face.

But the most striking thing about him right now was the hopeful light in his eyes.

“That’s what you’ve heard, huh? I’m sure that’s like ten levels of state secret right there. Zeus doesn’t let people know he stole his sister-in-law to keep it nice all year round, and it happened over 300 years ago.”

“Nevertheless, it’s true. That’s why you’re always desperate to win the tournament.”

Hades huffed. “So what’s it to you? Say I theoretically haven’t seen my wife in 17 years and I’m willing to cheat, murder and steal for it. So what?”

“I want to make a trade. You and me; no black coats and no Malificent.” Luxord dug his cards out of his pockets. “Your Underworld furnishes the Coliseum with Life materia to save knock outs in the tournaments, and I know you get Death and Frog in your swamps of the damned. I have Heartless that are strong enough to win that tournament – or, if they can’t, ones that can sneak into Olympus.”

Hades’ flaming eyebrows rose, and he crossed his arms and let his mouth unzip into a sharklike grin. “You’ve got my interest. Make your sales pitch.”

So Luxord showed him the goods – the Heartless. He showed off the two invisible lizards and how they could attack someone without being noticed, and the difficulty a person would have in attacking them. He demonstrated how the trumpet-faced Heartless could heal multiple people in a single radius. He showed how the flowering Heartless could stay in one place or move through roots, and how dangerous they could be when volleying seeds at foes. He showed him the little Heartless that could turn invisible, crawl through holes and infiltrate secret areas.

And soon enough, one of Hades’ grublike assistants crawled out of a nearby crevice with a box of materia strapped to it’s back. Hades snatched it up (“Took you long enough, Pain!”) and pried the box open, exposing materia from the Underworld.

One as milky as an opal. One that looked like a fresh starry night cut from the sky. One was the virulent green of a swamp.

“They’re freshly cut. I can feel the power radiating off of them,” Luxord murmured as he rolled the Frog materia around in his hand. It smelled like decaying plants in water – like a swamp. Just like New Orleans. Oh, if Facilier was good with any of the spells he brought, it would be this one.  “I’m satisfied by your payment.”

“And I’m satisfied with your Heartless,” Hades said, shaking the little Heartless so that it turned invisible, visible, invisible. “Surprised you haven’t tried to backstab me, but satisfied. Frog’s a materia used by hostage-takers and torturers; I thought you black coats were slightly classier than that.”

“Pot, kettle.” Hades would have to try harder than that if he was going to pry why Luxord needed this out of him. And the best offense was a good offense -  “You’re a god, even if you’re working with Malificent. I don’t intend to go upon the low road unless you repeat the stunt you did with Cloud. And with Beatrice last year. And with Luzzu 5 years ago. And Ortensia 9 years ago. And - ”

“Alright, alright, I get it, I get it. Jeez. You should be flattered I haven’t given you the power of darkness spiel, but I bet you’ve already heard it already from your boss.”

“Light and darkness are simply natural phenomena. You may as well suggest I learn the power of fire.” The little grub Pain offered a box with protective runes carved into it, which Luxord took and put the materia in. “Have you considered the power of putting your eggs in more than one basket?”

“Are you calling me a one trick pony?”

“I would look a gift chocobo in the mouth.”

“Mouthy, mouthy, mouthy. No wonder Malificent wants you all dead.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Luxord said primly. “It was nice doing business with you, mighty Hades. I hope that you have a delightful summer.”

“But we never have summers here,” Hades started, and then he stopped, and his mouth unzipped with a razortooth grin. “Oh, yes, we’re having quite a summer this year. We will. It’ll go all year long. The crops will have trouble with how hot it’s going to be.”

Luxord grinned. “Make your own luck good.”

He opened a dark portal behind him and walked into it backwards, not letting his gaze leave Hades until he was safely inside, then closed it.

Well. That went better than he had expected. Materia gained, wrath of god avoided. He could stuff the materia in a card until he saw Facilier again. Keep it safe, keep it secret.

Light. Darkness. Life. Death. Frog. All powerful things. But, Luxord thought, what was more powerful than someone who moved to protect a person who they cared for?

Whose presence they enjoyed?

Who they would defy the very gods to help?


	22. Day -15: Winnie the Pooh's Journal

It took a few days for Luxord to return. Two funerals had come and gone by then:

At the first, Facilier watched a child-sized coffin watered with the tears of his parents, and used his hoodoo on the grave to keep it safe from ghosts and grave robbers. Ben Freeman had been barely four, and it seemed like two churches worth of mourners came and went by the time the sun set. Sorrow clung to Facilier as tightly as the humidity when he left.

At the second, Facilier watched from the tree line, hidden by foliage and shadow. A crowd of white men hovered around a closed casket. Whatever Luxord had done, it had not only killed the man who had run over Ben, it had destroyed his body. Facilier couldn’t help grim satisfaction from curling in his chest; revenge could not bring back the dead, but it could prevent more deaths.

(No, not revenge. Justice. He had used Luxord as a judge used a gavel.)

On the fourth day, Luxord had come home with a small box, told him not to open it yet, and left with nothing but that and a kiss that tasted like fruit and smoke. Facilier had hidden the box under the floorboards and spent a few minutes savoring the taste, as if he could discover what fruit it was simply through thought.

On the seventh day, Luxord saved him the effort with a gift of fresh pomegranates and a stolen half an hour. The time smeared into a memory of a feeling of bliss, hands held on the roof, watching passersby on the street below.

Every few days, Facilier took the box out and studied it. It was varnished dark and shiny, and then had unrecognizable letters carved into it. It reminded him of the Greek shops he saw near the edges of town; he wondered if he transcribed the box, one of the owners would understand what was written, or was it all nonsense like Facilier scribbled in French on his tourist trash charms?

He didn’t ask them because he assumed the former. He could feel magic coming from the box, pulsing to the touch like a car’s hood when the engine was running. Sometimes he could smell something sickly sweet, like a fresh corpse, and he’d slam the floorboards shut over the box then. Other times, there would be an earthy decaying smell that reminded him of the bayou. But the best times were when he smelled old sweat and freshly chopped herbs and candle smoke, and he’d leave the floorboards open then.

(When Mama had gotten near the end of her life, it’d been hard for her to leave the house or bathe herself. She’d spend hours chopping herbs to prepare remedies. Facilier would come back from half a dozen odd jobs to find her dozing next to melted down candles, and he’d carry her to bed.)

Half an hour every few days. Luxord smelled like sweat and leather and the floral oils he used to clean his coat. His cold skin took away the brunt of the summer heat. Facilier wasn’t a touchy man, but it was comfortable to sit hand in hand with Luxord on the rooftop after being interrupted doing laundry. There was no need to do more than that.

On a rainy day, they took to the bed and split a bag of dried fruit and Facilier brought the box out. The smell of the swamp oozed from the box as Luxord pressed his thumb to the lock and cast into it, opening it.

“The box is keeping them from altering the magical balance of your shop,” Luxord said. “See why I said to keep it shut?”

“Ultimate magic power, preventing contamination, yeah yeah I got it,” Facilier said. He blinked rapidly as he picked up the fat green materia and rolled it around in his fingers; the humidity had tripled as soon as the box opened, and the smell of the bayou was filling the room. “These things pack a wallop just existing. They’ve been stinking up the shop all week. I haven’t cottoned on to what they are yet, but I’ve got some guesses.”

“If you weren’t in need of practical magic, I wouldn’t start you on these for some months since they’re unusually powerful spells, but I think that the need warrants it and you can handle it. But I wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing when casting with these.” Luxord put one hand on the white materia and one of the black one. “We’ll start with Raise. This materia brings someone on the brink of death back to a state where their survival is possible. They’d need a curing spell or a doctor to guarantee their survival, but it’s by and far the most effective spell to use to save a dying patient.”

Facilier felt his heart skip. “Ben. You’re thinking of – “

“He’d still have spinal injuries. He might not be able to walk. But he’d be alive,” Luxord said. “Injured and alive is better than dead. It’ll take longer to find spinal regeneration magic, that’s difficult to find outside of hospitals, but this is a start.”

Facilier thought of nooses, and cutting down bodies, and pregnancies that broke the body apart. He thought of how the flu had drowned children from the inside out, how it had warped his mother until she too drowned in her own lungs. He thought of how he’d almost died himself, only seventeen, only still alive because of the Friends….

“I take back what I said at the Fourth of July. _This_ is the best present you’ve gotten me,” he breathed. His hand hovered over the two materia in Luxord’s hands, then exchanged the green one he held for the black one Luxord held. The stone was body temperature, with flecks of color in the dark like a starry night, and when he squeezed it he could smell candle smoke and flowers. “This one is it, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Luxord said, and the smile that suffused his face was so close to true that it made Facilier’s heart hammer faster. “The Life materia uses a combination of life magic and darkness to kickstart someone’s will to live as well as their most vital functions. Well spotted.”

“Well smelled, more like.”

“They’re freshly cut, so they still have that new materia smell. It’d be hard to hide what they are right now,” Luxord said. “It’s easier to make them seem like different materia once they’re a little less fragrant.”

“Well then.” Facilier rolled the stone in his hands. “Do all materia have consistent smells?”

“Most of them do. Life doesn’t – that depends on the caster. Because bringing someone back from the brink with your magic is usually very,” and Luxord paused to find a word, “personal.”

“Personal, yeah,” Facilier parroted. “Smells like something that makes you want to stay alive, right?”

Luxord nodded. “Indeed. You recognize what it smells like to you?”

“Yeah, my mother. What about you?

“Blooming cherry trees. Sea salt. Gumbo and candle smoke.”

“Didn’t you say that you only learned what gumbo was when you came to New Orleans?”

Luxord flushed. “It is true. We had cherries and the ocean at home, but not gumbo.”

“You big ol’ sap. Acting like my cooking is all that important,” Facilier teased as he put the Life materia back in the box, then squeezed the inside of Luxord’s elbow. Luxord colored redder and lowered his face to Facilier’s shoulder.

To think he could get Luxord to blush like that – to react like that. The man had a poker face that was hard to beat, but once you got a read on him, he was an open book. With large print. And hearts dotting the Is. And for all that Luxord was a Nobody with a gaping void where his soul should be, filling him with the littlest bit of affection lead him to reflect it back at you twofold.

It was a good thing Facilier was a trustworthy kind of snake oil salesman. He’d intended to use Luxord for his money, way back when they had first met. (Was it really only last February? Only six months ago?) Someone with less standards might, when offered the services and trust of an all-powerful undead, let it go to their head.

“So that white materia – if this is Life, then that’s Death, isn’t it?”

“Very astute. Death is a very dangerous spell because it – well, the easiest explanation is that it convinces the soul that the body is dead and it’s time to go. Instantly severs soul and body. It only works about one in five times because the human desire to live is very strong, but if you want to kill someone without leaving a mark, it’s the standard. Preferred by executioners for a quick and painless death.” Luxord rolled the white stone in his hand, letting it stand out against his black leather glove. “It’s quicker and easier to just beat someone to death. But unlike a hammer or a knife, having one of these materia usually signals an intent to kill, so the sale of them is restricted.”

Facilier ran his fingers over the Death materia, watching Luxord’s fingers twitch towards his with every movement. “So, if someone dies from this, it looks natural?”

“Like the usual loss of life from heart failure. So if there’s an emergency or you find a need to mete out justice when I’m not around, you’ll be able to.” Luxord curled his fingers around the stone and Facilier’s hand. “I’m immune to Death magic since I have no heart to sever from the body, so you can practice targeting on me.”

“You sure? I don’t want to accidentally, you know,” and Faciler waved his hand over his neck.

“Trust me. I went to magic college to learn about magic, and I’ve had people cast it at me as a Nobody. I’m immune.”

“Then we can do that, but later. You still haven’t explained that stone in the middle.” Facilier softly broke their hands apart and put Death in the box next to Life, then picked up the green stone again. “What’s this swampy little fellow?”

“That’s the crown jewel in this collection. Most materia pits that spawn it have been destroyed so no more can pop up.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense!”

“This,” Luxord said victoriously, “is Frog.”

There was a beat, and then, Facilier, ever the skeptic, said, "Frog?”

Luxord nodded.

“Frog. Luxord, I can see the need for Life and Death, but who needs Frog magic? Is it a rain of frogs??”

“It turns a human into a frog, and that frog back into a human.”

“I don’t see the point in that.”

“There isn’t much practical use for it, no. But if you want to spy on someone, who would pay attention to a frog? Or if you took someone hostage, is it easier to keep a full grown human or a small frog captive?”

“So it’s a weapon of war.”

“More or less. Those are the least illegal applications of it. I don’t want to get into the gruesome details.”

Facilier shook his head. “Tell me, so I don’t end up imagining it on my own.”

“As you wish. So, there was this duke who wanted to marry a princess, but she was courting a commoner. He took the commoner prisoner and told the princess she could only get him back if she joined him for a dinner of freshly cooked frog legs.”

“Ok never mind!!!”

“Fortunately, it turned out the man survived losing his legs - I am stopping now, please stop glaring.”

Facilier huffed and leaned against Luxord. “So now you’ve given this dangerous spell to me. What are you intending?”

“Well, again, if there’s someone causing a problem and I’m not around to get rid of them, here’s another way to deal with them that won’t capture any attention. Good for self-defense, too.”

“And justice.” Facilier huffed again. “Never thought I’d be able to get any, and yet here we are.”

“If it makes you safe and happy, I could desire nothing else.”

Facilier guided Luxord’s hands to his own. “So, how about you teach me how to cast these?"

"It will take a long time for you to master them, but I believe you'll have a grasp of them within a few months."


	23. Day -10: Neverland/London

 “Sora’s ship disappeared out of space.”

“What, again?”

“I don’t need a favor from you this time. We know where he is.” Luxord drank his soup straight from the bowl in Facilier’s kitchen as Facilier sewed trinkets on the floor. “One of Maleficent’s lieutenants captured him. He’s currently on the sea between worlds.”

“Does he need a rescue?”

“Only if it looks like he’ll die. He’d need to go to Maleficent’s lair sooner or later; this might get him there sooner. If there’s a need, we’ll surreptitiously help him so we don’t tip our hand.”

“She’s holed up in – whatsit called, Hollow Bastion?”

“That’s it. The entire population evacuated, died or became a Heartless when someone summoned the Heartless into the capital city. Now all that’s left are ruins.”

“That’s rough.” Facilier wet the thread he was using and threaded it. “So, how do you evacuate an entire world?”

“Hollow Bastion’s capitol was built on an ancient worldship built before the Keyblade Wars, known as a Garden. By activating the Garden ship, the capitol could evacuate citizens who made it to appropriate boarding sites while the city defense system kept the Heartless away.”

Facilier blinked. Luxord liked to exposit, but this was a little too much exposition for him so early in the day. This was the part where Luxord stuffed his face, not when he talked for three hours.

Garden. Where had he heard that phrase before? “Is this the part where you tell me the history of Gardens?”

Luxord smiled. “I would, but there’s a great deal we don’t know. Since historical fact before the Keyblade War is difficult to discern due to the way it altered the universe, it’s difficult to verify pre-war documents as true or false. And then there’s the potential that an alien built the Gardens, not humans. The technology within doesn’t match any known human magitek from the last thousand years, but the Disnets and Fairies claim to know nothing about them.”

Definitely more exposition than usual. And that alien drop was a pretty severe change of topic. “Your history is more exciting than ours,” Facilier said carefully. “"Worldwide evacuations. Wars mucking with the whole universe, not just places and people. Aliens building artifacts - you know a lot about that, don't you?"

Luxord’s smile became a mask. “Radiant Garden was built on a Garden – hence the name. Learning about Gardens was part of my tutelage: function, usage and origin.”

Radiant _Garden_ : Luxord’s homeworld. Hometown? Whichever. Something about Hollow Bastion struck a little too close to home for Luxord, presumably, if he was pre-emptively dancing around the topic. Feeding Facilier scraps of information to try and lead him away from the big prize. As if Facilier couldn’t smell which way treasure really lay.

“So, as a noble, did you know how to use your Garden? Since you learned about it and all.”

“Naturally. Since it would cause havoc for every citizen to have an activation code, only certain officials could, could um…” He made a fist and twisted it up and down.

It took Facilier a moment to recognize the gesture. “Oh! To start it? Like starting a car?”

“Yes, that! Starting a car. It takes specialized magic training to start the Garden.”

Time to go for the throat. Metaphorically. “So is that what happened when the Heartless came to Radiant Garden?”

Luxord’s face became as pale and stiff as porcelain. “I believe I need a favor from you after all.”

“Oh?”

“I need you to drop this subject.”

Well. Maybe literally going for the throat, then. Was this worth pursuing?

It was a beautiful afternoon. They were both clustered inside and Luxord had brought some fresh pineapples for them to share. No, it wouldn’t be worth pursuing, not on a nice afternoon like this. He’d keep it tucked away for later.

“Subject dropped.”

“Thank you,” Luxord breathed, and the mask melted away to soft blankness. It was a good look on him – without the false emotions on his face, there was just that softness left, his guard down and away.

It was a look that had nothing to do with the little blonde dolls with blue button eyes Facilier was making. Absolutely not. He’d never do something embarrassing like that.

“Anyway. I’m glad you survived to show up here. The shop would be real dull with you gone, Luxord.”

“I agree. There are few whose presence inspire such…heartfelt thoughts within me.”

* * *

 

After several minutes of concentrated spellcasting, the rip in space between Neverland and the world Hook had used to hide from the Organization opened.  Luxord walked out onto a balcony of tiny clocks on a clocktower and promptly doubled over coughing. The air was so thick with smoke that it painted the sunset a dozen shades of grey. Xigbar looped an arm around Luxord and held him up until he could catch his breath.

“Sorry about that, bro, but it’s the Quarantine. They do all kinds of weird shit here.”

“Warn me next time,” Luxord said with a final cough. “What’s wrong with the air here?”

Xigbar pointed to smokestacks in the distance that oozed dirty white smoke. “No magic. They have to burn things to get fuel.”

Luxord stared out at the horizon in horror. There were smokestacks upon smokestacks on the horizon, and the river that oozed beneath them was the dull color of a Heartless’s hide. The only color was distant glittering gold gates around a palatial white building.

“How far into the Quarantine is this? I thought that shortcuts from fairy worlds to Quarantines were just urban legends.”

“Deep enough that Maleficent couldn’t get a Heartless in here in nine years,” Xigbar said. “The barrier around this world is enough that most of them get fried coming in.”

“The Quarantine barriers the ancient Keyblade bearers set up are stronger the further into the Quarantine you get…”

“If it takes us over five minutes to open a dark portal into this place, what’s a Heartless gonna do to get in here?” Xigbar snorted. “We’ve got to shore the barrier up, though. We shouldn’t be able to get in here at all. If Maleficent does get a Heartless in here, the population will go up like wildfire.”

"I know. I remember what happened on La Cite des Cloches. The entire world was depopulated in a week."

"Wasn't there a book on it?"

“ _How a Judge’s Hateful Lust Destroyed My Homeworld and My Little Sister,_ by the author that goes by Clopin. Published seven years ago; based on oral reports by the Parisian refugees in the aftermath and novelized by the selfsame Clopin-san. I believe there’s a film coming out next year to raise money for his people living on Wyvern’s Capital.”

“You’re keeping track of all that?”

“I was a refugee too, remember?” Luxord nudged Xigbar playfully. “Because I wasn’t stuck in the castle when the Heartless appeared, I got to fly around looking for a new home planet for five years.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry, Luxord, you just never talk about it, you know? It’s easy to forget when you keep your mouth all clammed up like that.”

If Luxord had a heart, it would have frozen, but. Xigbar was a Nobody, same as the rest. Nobody cared what had happened between the fall of Radiant Garden and when Luxord joined the Organization. It wasn’t so surprising that Xigbar would forget, considering how busy he was with work. “It wasn’t terribly important, anyway. The past is past. The important thing here is making sure Maleficent doesn’t allow any Heartless in here, and that we can spy on Sora when he inevitably comes here.”

“Right. You take the north and east, I’ll do the west and south, and we’ll meet up in the middle?”

“Of course.”

It only took about an hour to draw spying spells all over the clocktower in silver paint pen. They’d activate if they sensed the magical signature of a Keyblade, and would disintegrate after 3 months, destroying any trace that they were there. As he worked, Luxord watched as the scenery moved around him, fading from light grey to dark grey.

A cathedral. A palace. A river. A bridge.

What had Xigbar told Luxord about his mother as a child?

_The country had a thief queen who could steal countries out from under the inhabitants’ feet, and engineers that stole rivers around the country to put into a big river for the capital city.  Her favorite place in the city was the clocktower next to the church where they buried thief-kings, which was decorated in stolen saints. If you climbed to the top of the clocktower, you could see the thief-church, the stolen river and the thieves’ headquarters where the thief-lords debated what country to steal next. They even stole the air away to make light and smoke._

Luxord cast a Spark spell to give him enough light to work and watched how it turned the smog around him a rainbow of greys.

And this world connected to Neverland, which connected to Disnet Town, which connected to Radiant Garden. Just a hop, skip and a jump away.

“Does this world seem familiar to you?”

Xigbar gave Luxord a Look with his one eye. “Neither of us have been here before, genius.”

“No, no, I mean – remember what my mother said about her homeworld? This has all the right landmarks to be it.”

Xigbar looked out over the city below. “I guess? It’s been a long time, Luxord, and the Quarantine is huge. What are the odds we’d find it that easily?”

“It’s the right distance from Radiant Garden.”

Xigbar shrugged. “Who knows? It’s not like we’re going to come back here.”

“I can’t have some intellectual curiosity about my origins?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you keep on pretending that you care. We’re Nobodies. No heart, remember?” Xigbar knocked on Luxord’s chest. “You can’t be curious.”

“Curiosity is not an emotion, big brother.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I have always strived to be an objective observer, and that hasn’t stopped since I became a Nobody. Gaining knowledge allows me to gain an advantage on opponents.”

Xigbar stared at him for a long, long moment. It was strange, Luxord thought abstractly, how Xigbar’s eye had changed since their childhood: from near black to amber. Hypnotizing, almost.

His brother held the gaze for one more long moment. Then he laughed. “Oh, Luxord, as if! If that’s what you think, you’re never gonna get it!”

“Get what?” They’d been apart for too long after the Heartless came. It used to be so easy to understand what his brother thought. (What his entire family thought.) And Luxord telling the truth without sidestepping any facts used to be greeted with praise for frankness, not a reversion to childhood rivalry.

“Never mind.” Xigbar popped onto his toes and ruffled Luxord’s hair, then turned around. “You got all of your sides done?”

“Yes, of course. But before we go, I had a suggestion for some further spells.”

“Like what?”

“Sora’s going to go to Hollow Bastion after this, isn’t he? Maleficent is waiting for him with her strongest Heartless. I wouldn’t want to go in there without supplies, so I’ll tuck some elixirs into the little clocks for him to take.” Luxord wiggled his silver paint pen meaningfully. “With any luck, it’ll allow him to take her out before he falls.”

“As long as it’s all from your own supplies, I’ll allow it,” Xigbar said. “I’m gonna head back to the castle. Get in before curfew, scamp.”

“Of course, big brother,” Luxord said, a smile spreading on his face. He’d have enough time for it.

And within a few minutes, Xigbar was gone. Luxord had his mother’s clocktower to himself. He got out his silver paint pen and some of his rare supplies and used magic to tuck twelve valuable little trinkets into some of the small clocks on the tower’s roof.

"Sora, I know you won't hear this,” Luxord said as he created the spells that would keep the treasure hidden until Sora could activate it, “but I hope that it impacts you. You're going to become the hero that saves everyone. Your blade is seeding Kingdom Hearts, and your heart will become its cornerstone. I know that it is a terrible sacrifice, but the entire universe will be saved. I hope that you can understand and accept your sacrifice as I did, long ago.

“The chests activate once every hour. You hang around worlds to collect treasure; you can have a little time to rest before you go to Hollow Bastion. To Radiant Garden. To home. It’s more than I got. You deserve rest before you fall into this.

“I know you cannot hear me, but I wish you the best. My sister would be your age if the Heartless hadn’t killed her. I can only hope that both of you will be revived by the Superior’s Kingdom Hearts. Hope is not an emotion but an act to strive for a better future. You are everyone’s hope.”

* * *

 

Black sky. Black sea. Black sand.

“Not this dream again,” Facilier said. Once again, he was floating in the dark. “There is enough weirdness in my life without this.”

YOU HAVE RETURNED!

It was a good thing this was a dream, otherwise the ghost’s booming voice would threaten to deafen Facilier. “It’s not like I have a choice, buddy.”

I HAVE PREPARED MY COSTUME AT LAST! WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Facilier spun slowly in the air and came face to ‘face’ with the dream ghost. The apparition actually appeared, now: covered from head to toe in textured white cloth, as shapeless as someone who had just draped a bedsheet over their head. Head and hands were visible in the shapes under the cloth, but the rest was left to Facilier’s imagination.

It would almost be hilarious in simplicity if the ghost wasn’t three times Facilier’s size.

“It’s, uh. It sure is something.”

The ghost’s shoulders slumped under the cloth. YOU DON’T LIKE IT.

“You’re three times my size. I didn’t know that before you put on clothing.” Which meant the thing was naked before and Facilier was not pursuing that thought any further.

YOU ARE MY SUBJECT. AS THE KING, I AM BOUND TO YOUR OPINIONS.

“What does that have to matter for anything? I thought kings were in charge and that you wanted to rule all.”

IN THIS LAND WITHOUT LIGHT, IT IS EAT OR BE EATEN. SUCH IS THE WAY OF BEASTS. BUT OUR HEARTS ARE CONNECTED – AND EVEN IF THEY WERE NOT, YOU ARE STILL A FINE MAN, NOT A BEAST. A KING RULES OVER BEASTS AND WEATHER AND SERVES THE PEOPLE.

"You have weird ideas about ruling - but as long as you keep on with the not eating me, I can work with it."

WHY WOULD I EAT THAT PRECIOUS HEART, JET AS NIGHT CUT WITH A RAINBOW: A BLACK OPAL? WHAT HEART COULD EVER REPLACE SUCH A JEWEL? IT WOULD BE A CRIME BEYOND HUMANITY TO DESTROY IT.

That made Facilier pause. Opal sounded familiar. Luxord had said that when they had first met, hadn’t he? Your heart is an opal, a precious gemstone, or something like that.

Luxord was a Nobody, and thus had no heart. Nobodies were born when a Heartless ate someone, and a Heartless was born from it. Or ghosts – a ghost was often born from a violent death.

And their hearts had been connected on the night he and Luxord had first shared their feelings for each other. The ghost had haunted him since.

“What’s your name, uh, my lord? What do you go by?”

The ghost spun in around in the air and began slowly circling Facilier, twirling and rippling like a streamer.  THAT IS MY NAME! I AM YOUR LORD! YOU HAVE PLUCKED IT FROM THE AIR!

“So, like – the name Luxord doesn’t mean anything to you?”

LUXORD IS NOT A REAL NAME.

“Xigbar?”

NOT REAL.

“Vexen, Zexion, Lexaeus?”

NOT NAMES. NOT REAL. I AM LORD, I AM A PHANTOM LORD, YOU HAVE NAMED ME AND I REMEMBER IT!  I AM LORD!

Not names, not names – well, maybe Luxord’s Oganization used psuedonyms. Which meant that Luxord wasn’t really his real name. Which fit with how secretive he was. Well, Facilier had a few more cards up his sleeve. If this was real, and if this was related to Luxord, then he had a few more keywords to try.

“Are you from Radiant Garden?”

THAT IS THE KINGDOM OF LIGHT, WHERE FLOWERS FLOURISH. THE HEART OF SKENIX, THE RESETTLED KINGDOMS OF THE OLD KINGS. THE LIGHT FROM THE MOUNTAINS ON THE SNOW.

That ruled out ghosts from New Orleans. It had to be someone related to Luxord’s space nonsense.

“Do you know Kairi?”

The ghost began spiraling downward. KAIRI IS DEAD.

Hoo boy. “What happened to Kairi?”

KAIRI IS DEAD. KAIRI IS DEAD. KAIRI IS DEAD.

Well, if it wasn’t Luxord, it sure sounded like him. They were both evasive little twerps, even if Luxord’s evasions were much more coherent. “What happened to Radiant Garden? Why are you here?”

The phantom stopped spinning and hung upside down in the air, one tendril of cloth pointing upwards like a leg.

THEY FLOODED FROM THE CASTLE LIKE ANTS FROM AN ANTHILL. SWARMING LIKE MAGGOTS IN A WOUND. A HUNDRED, A THOUSAND, A HUNDRED THOUSAND. THE CENTER OF TOWN, DEAD OR SOON TO BE.

KAIRI WAS AT THE CASTLE. BUT IF THE CASTLE WAS GONE, SOMEONE ELSE HAD TO ACTIVATE THE GARDEN SHIP. THE EDGE OF TOWN. THE ACTIVATION SEQUENCE. TOO IMPORTANT FOR MOST TO KNOW. ONLY THE BLOOD OF KINGS CAN START THE SEQUENCE. ONLY ONE ALIVE WHO COULD BEGIN EVACUATION PROCEDURES.

BUT A GOOD BROTHER WOULD HAVE GONE TO THE CASTLE FIRST.

If he was awake, he’d be writing all of this down. The castle – the blood of kings – So much revealed, and yet.

“A king serves the kingdom first. If there was a flood, and I had to choose between going home or setting a floodgate….” How could a mouth feel so dry in a dream? The sudden, vivid image of squirming maggots leaking out of his cousin’s home – maggots flooding from someone’s mouth -

AND NOW THEY’RE DEAD. THEY DIED. ALL OF THEM. A KING OF THE DEAD IN A NOTHING KINGDOM. I OFFER THIS KINGDOM MY FLESH. EAT IT AND YOU WILL LIVE. The ghost tore at it’s wrappings, fingers digging in. WHAT USE IS A KINGDOM IF THEY ARE ALL DEAD? WHAT USE IS A KING WHO IS ALONE? TEAR ME APART IF IT WILL BRING THEM BACK. RIP THIS BODY TO PIECES TO SPARE THE KINGDOM MORE PAIN. ANYTHING IS BETTER THAN THIS!

Cloth ripped. The ghost tore its front in two, exposing nothing inside but a glowing gemstone the size of Facilier’s cane. Colors rippled through it like light reflecting off an oily puddle.

It was, Facilier thought with the abstract distance of a dreamer, carved in the shape of a heart.

He woke up with the afterimage of that heart burning against his eyelids. It flashed white-gold against his dark ceiling and purpling beginnings of sunrise out his window.

His own heart was pounding in his chest.

“It’s only a dream,” Facilier said. “That wasn’t Luxord’s heart. There’s no giant king ghost fixated on me so it doesn’t rip itself to pieces, and it sure isn’t in love with me because it’s got Luxord’s fool heart.”

After a moment, he added, "I gotta get better at lying. How am I gonna keep fooling these suckers if I can't fool my own self?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SLOWLY, WE'RE GETTING TOWARDS THE CLIMAX.... Thanks for waiting, everyone! And a big thanks to chuplayswithfire for looking over this and helping me get the kinks out of this chapter!!


	24. Day 0: Hollow Bastion

In the days until Luxord’s next visit, Facilier decided he wouldn’t tell Luxord what he learned in the dreams. Even if he had plenty of evidence, there was no hard proof that it wasn’t just a dream.

And without proof, how willing would Luxord be to talk about it? If it all was real, that ghost (that Heartless?) was talking about things that Luxord would never speak of – at least, not yet. In their game of information, it was cheating. Completely unfair.

So he’d bring it up slowly. And if he had found the lost part of Luxord after all, he’d give Luxord some valuable information in the interest of fairness. Probably. Maybe.

(But what would top, ‘A good brother would have gone to the castle’?)

* * *

 

How could Luxord even begin to explain to Facilier the magnitude of what had happened when Radiant Garden fell? It was too much to bring up all at once. It was one thing to mention your homeworld had been destroyed; it was another entirely to discuss the emotional impact of it. What it had been like to see Heartless leaking from the castle’s windows like ants squirming from an anthill, so thick as to render the entire building black. To feel his heart freeze in his chest.

Even if he had no heart, he remembered it. There was an echo of that fear and grief residing in him, and he would prefer not to feel those again.

So he would not bring it up himself. He and Facilier played games with their pasts as the chips every day. He’d simply upped the ante by handing Facilier a puzzle with Luxord’s past as the prize.

Sora had spent the last day in Radiant Garden’s royal library, which was full of booby traps and secret passageways. It’d be enough to keep the boy busy for some time, Luxord thought, and so there was little fuss when Luxord left The World that Never Was to go on a personal supply run.

There were plenty of bookstores in Agrabah. Luxord found a copy of _How a Judge’s Hateful Lust Destroyed My Homeworld and My Little Sister_ in the original French and bought it, then flipped through the pages as he slipped into the dark world and headed for Bayou Boulevard.

The light of the dark world’s luminescent crystals was enough to read by. Luxord’s French was just as nonexistent as it had been 8 years before, but his Latin had helped bridge the gap back then, and he recognized bits and pieces of it now. The new edition had shiny, sleek pages that Clopin’s illustrations danced on, which made it more difficult for Luxord to find his cameo.

But he did find it. He’d been too young to have more than stubble then, and still wore the gaudy coat that had been in fashion when Radiant Garden fell. Clopin drew him and wrote about him with a flattering pen, but did not hesitate to point out his flaws. It was an endearing portrait, he hoped. 

> ‘Dropped into a new world at night, knee deep in muddy water and head still spinning from the events of the last twenty four hours, I can only describe what I felt as the numbness of a dreamer. A sky with only a handful of stars? A walled city that did not stink of ashes, as Paris had a few hours before? What could this be but a dream?
> 
> And yet as I staggered out of the muddy waters of the farmland I had landed in, I saw my family wading out with me. The moon was enough light to recognize the faces of the living, and so I took my frost-numb body and helped pull them out, one by one. Those of us who had survived were as numb as I was.
> 
> There were no signs of the crawling plague we would call the Heartless. Instead, we found paths paved with stone knit so tight you couldn’t fit a knife between them, and houses with walls so seamless that you could not see where wall ended and pavement begun. This was the nature of Traverse Town, the city of refugees, a world that grew from fragments of other worlds; but at that moment, it seemed as though the entire street had been carved from one enormous slab of stone.
> 
> Like a dreamer, I did not question it. Instead, too curious for my own good, too numb to be afraid, I knocked upon the door of one of the houses.
> 
> In the outer rim of Traverse Town are those citizens who did not mind dealing with new arrivals. If that place was like an island, we had washed up upon the shore. Those in charge were quickly alerted, and a young man appeared to guide us.
> 
> As the curious cat, I was shoved forward to negotiate. The young man, who looked as though he’d been carved from honeycomb, bowed to me and gently ran through greetings, one by one, until he stumbled into Latin. <Welcome, thee, to this town of survivors. Know this language?>
> 
> <Well enough,> I said, glad down to my bones that I’d learned the language on a whim. <We seek shelter?>
> 
> <Shelter you shall have. This town is open to all with light in their hearts. Monsters from the dark devour cities, and those who survive come here. Our doors remain open to all.>
> 
> <Even us?> I asked, muddy, bloody, and withered down to my bones.
> 
> <If they would make a fool like me their leader, I see no reason why you could not be my neighbor,> said the young man, and he bowed.
> 
> And that was how I found myself herding relatives into the unoccupied buildings on the edge of town, and unofficially designated as the go-between with those from Traverse Town. “Isn’t this your job anyway, Clopin? And you’re the only one who speaks Latin among us.”
> 
> It was true, but it was too large of a task for one man; but I was numb to the soul, and if I was busy, then I could not think upon all who had been lost.
> 
> And while my family took to the foods the townsfolk had given us, cleansing them and preparing them, I found myself negotiating with the waxy young man in Latin. I was shocked to discover he was a noble in the town, the last of some royal family. Our King Louis was a spider who sat in his web and preyed upon those smaller than him, but the young man Lourd seemed more a bee, buzzing about his hive with only the production of honey in mind.
> 
> Well, he had lost his world too. Perhaps he felt the same mad need to stay busy I did?’

Would it be too easy if he bookmarked the page? Clopin’s French was full of regional slang and in-jokes, but Facilier was fluent. He would probably understand most of what was written. But then again, what if he wasn’t interested? What if he didn’t bother to look?

No, no. Facilier’s curiosity burned as fast and hard as saltpeter. He would look. And if he didn’t find Luxord, then Luxord would tell him where to look after a few weeks.

He stepped through the darkness from the dark world to New Orleans, to Facilier’s roof. The clouds hung low and pregnant with rain over the house, so Luxord popped open the trapdoor to the kitchen and hopped down without preamble, using a gust of Aero to close the door after him.

“It’s been over a week. Where have you been?” Facilier asked, and he used his cane to stagger from the oven to a chair and slid into it.

“Sora’s attacking Maleficent’s stronghold. We think he’s not going to move today, so I could finally take a break from castle surveillance.” Luxord sniffed the air. “Are you baking something? It smells good.”

“Cornbread,” Facilier said. “I might – heavy on the _might_ , mind you – have found some kind of ultra Heartless you could hunt, but I can only find it using my Sight and through dreams.” He shuffled through the messy stack of papers on his kitchen table. “Might just be a dream, so the cornbread’s in case it’s nothing.”

“Then I’m right on time if you’re just making it now.”

“No, I had to eat the first two batches so they wouldn’t go bad, but – don’t give me that look. I don’t think you can eat three entire loaves of cornbread in one sitting.”

“Watch me.”

“Pay me for materials.”

Luxord shoved a hand into his inventory and picked out a moonstone, then tossed it to Facilier. Shadow plucked it from the air and tucked it into Facilier’s pocket, and Luxord bowed. “As you command.”

“You’re ridiculous. Come on, sit down, the bread won’t be ready for another twenty minutes,” Facilier said, and Luxord felt warmth settle all through him. An echo of Facilier’s heart, no doubt – what else could this feeling squeezing his chest be?

“Then I’ll wait. Do you want to start on that Heartless, or should I show you what I found first?”

Facilier’s grin grew wider, and he propped his face up on his hands. “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got first?”

Luxord nodded, then pulled the book from his pocket. “I believe I missed your birthday by a few days, so I brought this as a proper birthday gift. It’s a famous novel about life after the Heartless, in the original French. I thought you would enjoy it.”

Facilier flipped through the pages, opening up a two-page color spread of a festival. The flat coloring made Facilier’s calloused fingers pop, highlighting the green stains underneath his fingernails and the slender curve of his knuckles.

“….’s good.”

Wait. “Did you say something?”

“I said, never seen an art style like this, but it’s good. Even if this French is weird. Reads like something out of an old novel.”

“He’s from a world deep in the Quarantine. (The Heartless only got there from a smuggling route shortcut in the Fairy Kingdoms.) Language changes after 300 years of separation.”

“No kidding.” Facilier lay the book down. “I’ll check that out later. Now, about that Heartless.” He picked up some of his papers, which had gossamer creatures drawn on them. “You seen anything like this before?”

“Nothing.” Luxord looked at a sketch of the back of the Heartless, which had a crude but recognizable Heartless emblem on it. “Can’t be more than nine years old if it’s has that mark. How big was it?”

“At least twice my size. Probably more. I wasn’t able to get a good look since it only showed up in dreams – can’t measure that well while you’re asleep.”

“Makes sense. When you see it in your dreams, where is it? Or where are you, I suppose?”

Facilier showed Luxord another picture, this one colored with crayons. “Do you recognize this?”

“Black, dark blue, crystals and rock with no vegetation. If it’s not the dark world, I’ll eat my coat.”

“That weird place where the Heartless live. Of course.  I can’t be getting magic brain phone calls from something cute and harmless, like a monster who gives people money for listening to it.”

“That’s me,” Luxord joked.

Facilier’s smile faded. “I guess it is.”

What kind of reaction was that? That was funny, right? That was a joke? Was it not a good joke? “W-well, I can’t give you money if you don’t give me more information,” Luxord said quickly. “So please continue talking!”

“Right, right.” Facilier doodled on the blank side of his landscape drawing, scribbling something whirling around a heart. “So, it can talk. Is that normal for a Heartless? All of my Friends can talk, but the little things you bring to us never do.”

“They don’t talk. I’ve only met one exception to the rule.”

“What was it?”

Luxord took Facilier’s pencil and some paper and started sketching. “The Seeker of Darkness.” He scratched out a snarling head on a body that spiraled into itself, then started filling in the spaces with what he remembered as pulsing walls of flesh. “I think it was originally at least seven Heartless, but it’s fused together. These five made up a large ship that was…oh, at least twice the size of your house.”

Facilier grimaced. “That doesn’t look like something that could move normally.”

“That’s why this part of it doesn’t leave the space between worlds. It can fly,” Luxord explained as he sketched the translucent chest of the creature, and the screaming face inside that worked as the engine. “Only the pilot and co-pilot go on-world.” He roughly sketched the hollow coat that was the Seeker’s pilot form, then the muscular and tightly bound co-pilot that hung from the pilot’s back.

“Didn’t you say you fought the Seeker?” Facilier asked as he scooted his chair over to Luxord’s side.

“Yes.” Luxord looked to Facilier, then to his drawing, then to Facilier again. “I can tell you have a question. Go ahead and say it.”

“I was going to ask how you survived fighting something that big, but then I remembered…” and Facilier tapped his own heart and grimaced.

Luxord couldn’t help a smile. “I managed to last for a good half hour before it caught me.”

“Were you scared?”

“Naturally. But,” Luxord said, his fingertips brushing Facilier’s, “it’s easier to fight if you have someone to fight for.”

“You died for someone?”

“Isn't that the best reason to?"

Facilier raised his bony hand and placed one calloused finger on Luxord’s lips. “If you ever try some cockamamie scheme that ends in you dying to save me or some nonsense, I will bring you back from the dead to kill you again myself. Got it?”

“I beg your pardon, but that’s such a romantic statement,” Luxord murmured. His body responded to the feelings he should have been feeling and colored his cheeks. The idea that Facilier would be upset that he died -that he caught Luxord’s hints of what he might be willing to do – how could he do but anything but let him rise in esteem?

Facilier whacked Luxord’s shoulder. “I’m not kidding around. Dead men don’t pay the bills.”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“Now,” Facilier said, cutting off anything more Luxord might have said, “what kind of person would spawn a Heartless this big? Like, if there’s that much darkness, what would that mean?”

Luxord nodded seriously. “If it’s living in the world of darkness, it probably didn’t start out that large. That place makes Heartless grow bigger and stronger at a – at least a tenfold rate, maybe more. It could have started as a mere Shadow and grown bigger and bigger – not like your Shadow,” he added quickly, looking to Facilier’s Shadow grimacing on the wall, “but the weakest kind of Heartless, which is called a Shadow, which could grow to become a Darkball, a Darkside or an Invisible in the dark world with enough time! We don’t know enough about Heartless physiology for me to give definitive statistics- ”

“I got it, I got it,” Facilier said quickly, jotting down notes. “So, like, it could have come from a normal person and it just…got big. Real big.”

“Yes.”

“And the darkness that spawns Heartless isn’t always bad. Darkness is just the creation of a soul that wants to exist, if I remember rightly. So someone could fall into darkness by being in despair in the right way, not just by being an ass.”

“Yes!” Facilier was so smart, putting the facts Luxord had given him together like puzzle pieces to create a greater picture. He must have a lead on this Heartless if he was already weaving things together so aptly. “Unique Heartless usually do spawn from someone in a rage, when their identity is threatened so much that their darkness floods forth – staining their Heartless with their personality. Someone lost in grief would be more likely to become a Shadow.”

“Is there anything else that could make a unique Heartless? Since that’s so rare. Like if you broke a soul with a keyblade or, like, were killed in the right place or by the right thing?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like we see them spawn,” Luxord said with a shrug. “We usually find big Heartless after the world they’re on falls, and capture them then. Going there while it’s falling tends to be hazardous.” Hmm. “Why a keyblade? Those are for killing the Heartless, not making them.”

“It’s been months, but you said they shatter souls,” Facilier explained. “And Heartless are made of the darkness in a heart, right? So if you shattered one…”

“But who would do that? Who _could_ do that? The last living keyblade wielder was Mickey Mouse, and he didn’t do a damn thing for nine years! And why would anyone make Heartless in the first place?!” Luxord shook his head. “I don’t know where you’re going with this.”

“That Heartless I found doesn’t seem that aggressive, it talks, it’s clearly not like the other Heartless. Something about it is different, and the why behind it is important. It’d be foolish to investigate without knowing the whys of it.”

“I guess. It’s just – you usually have more facts behind your theorems than this. Why the change?”

Facilier stared down at his hands, face screwed up in contemplation. When he looked up again, he pressed his hand to Luxord’s chest. “The Heartless told me our hearts were connected. Now, who in space lost his heart but is connected to me?”

“What?” What??? “No. That can’t be.”

“Why not? You lost your heart, didn’t you?”

“I would not – it’s too big. My Heartless would not be so big.”

“You just said that living in the dark world makes Heartless get big.”

“Mine would not – even with darkness exposure it wouldn’t be so big,” Luxord sputtered. “I didn’t have that much darkness!”

“How do you know?”

“I know myself! Light is about dedication to others and selfless sacrifice.”

"Aren't the greatest lights supposed to cast a long shadow or some such thing?" Facilier wondered pointedly, looking at Luxord.

“Not if there’s enough light,” Luxord stuttered.

“And all that selfless serving you’ve done in the Organization has left you resentful of the other members, hating that they don’t acknowledge what you do,” Facilier continued. “Not treasured like the youngest son or admired like the oldest, but stuck in the middle, mediocre. A heart crying out to be seen by others.”

“I’m not – that’s not - ” This time, when he flushed, it was with the memory of shame.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you. There’s nothing wrong about being – “

Selfish?

“Facilier. Please just. Stop talking,” Luxord said. His body felt like a tree in a hurricane, tensed, ready to break if the wind picked up any more –

“I’ll stop,” Facilier said.

The wind stopped.

“Thank you,” Luxord said quietly.

“Not a problem,” Facilier replied.

Luxord buttered his cornbread. He ate it in silence. Sweet and soft, and the butter made it sweeter. Mild. Was this crevice a fingerprint baked in? That would make it the sweetest thing yet.

Nothing broke the silence until Luxord’s magic mirror began to chime. Luxord almost dropped his bread, then set it down and went through his pockets looking for the magic mirror.

“What’s going on?” Facilier asked.

“The others want to talk to me. Hold on,” Luxord said, and then tapped at the mirror’s screen. “Luxord here – what’s going on?”

The mirror’s screen wavered from a mirror to Xigbar’s face in the camera. In the background was a pinkish sky and jagged crests of ice rising from purpling stone. He swiveled to show a castle built from pink sandstone and rust-red brick, with shimmering brass pipes reflected the light off the walls of ice that surrounded it.

“So, I was here to check in on things and the magic Maleficent uses to shield this place from us is gone,” Xigbar said in Skenix. “And given that she’s said that we’d get back into the castle over her dead body, I’ve got a good feeling about what Sora’s done today.”

“I thought,” Zexion said, “the invisible heartless with cameras strapped on them that we released inside the castle indicated he was cooling his heels.”

“Guess not,” Xigbar shot back. “Who’s in charge of those right now?”

“Demyx,” Saix said, and Luxord joined in a dozen different groans. “I’ll deal with him later.”

Xemnas intoned: “It seems that the arrival of Kingdom Hearts is close at hand. Xigbar, go forth and find the Keybearer and what is left of Maleficent’s lackeys. Let us watch them crumble to the power of light and nothingness!”

“You got it, Superior!” The camera’s feed blurred as Xigbar hopped from his perch on an outlying glacier to one of the gold-fenced open-air elevators that served the castle. A few small Shadows rose up from the group, and suddenly the camera was full of Xigbar’s arrowgun as he shot them into dust, one two three dead. He picked up the gemstones that fell where the monsters had stood a second before and pocketed them, sweeping the camera to a large door.

“Ok, so, we know Maleficent’s base is up at the top of the castle. That’s where the rip in space between the world of darkness and our world is. There’s no way Sora isn’t heading there now,” Xigbar said.

Another blur as he warped himself from one elevator to another 30 feet above him, letting it carry him further up, up, up. As the elevator went up, the stone walls of the castle grew more scratched by claws; windowsills worn down to nubs from the number of creatures that had run over them.

“I can’t believe you apprentices had three castles to live in. Not one, not two, but three, and the Heartless wrecked all of them,” Axel said. “Are you going to move back in once Maleficent is out?”

“That’d be nice,” Luxord said. “If Demyx gets his act together, we can secure the world like we did The World That Never Was. There’s plenty of useful items in the treasury, too.”

“If Maleficent hasn’t stolen then,” Lexaeus said.

“Do you really think she could get past our defenses? It is _our_ castle, after all!” Vexen said.

“She’s the one who killed you all with the Heartless invasion,” Luxord pointed out.

Everyone went silent.

“What? Aren’t we here to watch the heavy hand of fate bring Maleficent to the dark destiny she deserved?” Luxord asked as Xigbar used magic to open a window, then warped himself inside.

He heard a muffled snort that he recognized as Axel trying not to laugh. Luxord wasn’t sure what was so funny about what he’d said.

“Anyway,” Xemnas said, “the gate between worlds.”

“Our new castle is clearly better because we dust it,” Vexen muttered.

“Gate, gate, yeah. The darkness tracker is picking up some massive spikes from the direction of the gate room,” Xigbar said. He swept his phone around at the creamy stone walls and the dusty floor, and shot a balloon-shaped Darkball as it flew at him. “I’m heading in. Tell me if we get Demyx to patch into the other cameras, alright?”

“Here,” Zexion said. “A wave of darkness knocked them out about 20 minutes before you started filming. Demyx and I will try and get them online, but I can’t make promises.”

“Xaldin here,” interjected a gravely voice. “I know what knocked the cameras out.”

“What?” Xemnas asked.

“I’m in orbit with a gummi ship. The Seeker of Darkness’s own ship is up here, staring at me like I owe it money.”

Luxord almost slammed the phone against the table. “No! It can’t interfere now, not it could tip the odds against us going home – Xaldin, can we shoot it down?”

“There’s no need,” Xemnas said. “It’s dormant.”

“The Superior’s right,” Xaldin said. “The worst thing it’s done so far is give me a headache. If it attacks our ships, we’ll fight back, but for now we’re just watching it.”

“The Seeker of Darkness – “

“Luxord, no one cares about your grudge. Drop it,” Zexion said.

“We’re lucky Radiant Garden hasn’t been lost to darkness already! The Seeker makes every world it goes to fall,” Luxord said.

“If it falls, Kingdom Hearts will bring it back,” Xemnas said. “The most valuable things on-world are being evacuated already.”

“There’s no one in the castle,” Luxord said.

“He means from the labs,” Zexion said. “My Scholars are carrying our old research from the labs as we speak. Why would we want anything from here?”

“So we’re back at our old home where we lived and we’re not getting, I don’t know, anything useful from there?”

“We don’t have hearts. There’s no point in bringing home anything sentimental,” Xaldin said.

“Xaldin is correct,” Vexen added. “Don’t be foolish, boy.”

“I didn’t mean sentiment,” Luxord said, and didn’t let his mind wander to Vexen’s picture of the family in his lab, the Kairi floating in a tank. He didn’t think about Zexion’s nook in the library where he and Lexaeus would read together. “I mean the treasury.” He gritted his teeth. He could feel weight on his shoulders, like hands pressing down on him. A fluttering sound in his ears, far away.

“Guys, I get that it’s fun to argue, but shut up. I found Sora!” Xigbar said. “Hold on. I’m putting you all on mute so he doesn’t hear me but I’ll keep streaming.”

He stepped into the large room that held the gate to the world of darkness.

Several hundred years ago, it had been a throne room. However, several hundred years of wear and tear and several re-vampings of the castle’s generator had turned it into half storage area, half experiment area. The bronze pipes that carried magical energy throughout the castle rumbled as they poured energy into the heart-shaped portal that took up the entirety of one wall; the rippling colors of the portal threw rainbows onto the wall. An x-shaped seal on the portal was nearly blinding through the mirror’s camera. Xigbar warped onto the wall, then onto the ceiling before the seal could sear anyone’s eyes, giving Luxord and the rest of the Organization a bird’s eye view of the situation.

Donald the mage and Goofy the knight were on the stairs, clawing at a magical barrier around the ‘throne’ area. The door to darkness in the scarred circle of stone that Ansem had used to test magical explosions in Luxord’s childhood, two fought over the recumbent form of a red-haired girl.

One was the silver-haired boy that was Maleficent’s new lackey. Clad in blue armor that pulsed like skinless flesh, he flew at his opponent like a predator swooping for the kill. The sword – the _keyblade_ he held soaked in light like a black hole, a void with edges.

The other was Sora.

The boy’s protective bangles shimmered in the rainbow light with every movement. His hair spikes had fallen out into a halo of fuzzy hair, and sweat soaked every inch of the clothing under his red leather armor. His keyblade didn’t look like a magic sword; it looked like a long stick of solid medal with a few notches on the end. Judging by the way his opponent staggered, wheezing, when Sora slammed the keyblade into his diaphragm, it was at least as good as a bludgeon as it was as a key.

The fight would be over soon. Most real fights didn’t last more than a couple minutes, but they both kept healing themselves to fight on and on and on – but Curaga couldn’t heal exhaustion. Sora could reset a broken arm in a flash of green light, but he moved like his joints were full of glass. The other boy moved like a marionette, his motions mechanical.

It ended in an instant. The silver haired boy made a dash for the sleeping girl, and Sora jammed the tip of his keyblade into his stomach. It didn’t so much wind him as tear through him, turning his body into motes of light that settled like silvery dust on Sora as he reached out to catch his falling opponent. 

“Riku!!”

If Luxord had a heart, it would be beating a hundred miles an hour. He felt as though icy fingers were digging into his shoulders.

Donald and Goofy ran to Sora as he fell to his knees, staring at the space where his opponent had been a moment before. They helped him to his feet as he staggered forward to the gate to the world of darkness.

They spoke to each other too quietly for the camera to pick up. They looked up at the gate, then back to the girl. Sora’s face could not be seen at this angle, but his set shoulders told Luxord everything he needed to know as he picked up the black as void keyblade.

“What is he doing?” Xaldin said.

“His duty,” Luxord breathed. “It’s his duty.” Sora turned the keyblade around so that the sharp tip pointed into his chest. Before his bodyguards could stop him (before his own better judgement could stop him), he sunk it into his chest.

The keyblade dissolved into six glittering hearts. A seventh rose from Sora’s chest.

At the same time, Luxord was slapped so hard that he fell off his chair with a crash.

* * *

 

The first sign of trouble, Facilier decided in hindsight, was how Luxord had reacted to the little man and the castle on his magic mirror. Huge, surprised eyes and a genuine smile; he’d never seen that on Luxord with regards to work before. Or. Ever. He was animated as he swapped into his own native tongue and chattered with the rest of them, as Facilier eavesdropped.

Kingdom Hearts. Radiant Garden. Seeker of Darkness. Sora. Maleficent, Maleficent, Maleficent. Something big had happened. Facilier just couldn’t glean what since all he could recognize was a few names. The camera whipped and zoomed towards the gigantic castle as Luxord grew more and more animated, as monsters appeared and were killed in a few easy seconds.

Facilier knew it would be bad to talk; Luxord’s coworkers would hear him and the jig would be up. But he could still ask questions. He grabbed a piece of paper and pencil and scribbled a few questions, then slid it to Luxord.

That was the second sign of trouble. Luxord didn’t seem to notice the paper. He didn’t notice Facilier tapping his arms, or squeezing them, or trying to get his attention. Nothing was working.

So Facilier put his hands on Luxord’s shoulders and watched the show.

A castle. Monsters. Not out of the ordinary.

Luxord’s voice growing harsher, starting to swap in words in Latin, in English. This happened when you were bilingual, sometimes. The words got swapped around. The others were dropping into other languages now and then, and he’d catch a few words he recognized.

“Sora wo mitsukeru yo!” said the man onscreen as he stepped into a grand room covered in brass pipes. Perspective wrenched upside down and Facilier gripped Luxord’s shoulders at the sudden change.

It took him a moment to re-focus on the new center of attention: two fighting in the center of a stone circle, blades clashing, each blow bone-jarring.

Two _boys_ fighting.

Children.

One dark and silver-haired, dancing jerkily like a marionette; one dark and glittering, fighting defensively, calling out to the other.

Riku. Riku. Riku!!

And when what should have been a blow that winded made the silver-haired boy dissipate into smoke, the name (it had to be a name) was screamed. The boy fell to his knees. Two odd animal creatures helped him to his feet, and Facilier watched as if under a spell as the child wandered to the strange portal. Went back. Picked up Riku’s sword.

Shoved Riku’s sword through his chest with no hesitation.

The duck and the dog yelled for Sora as the boy collapsed into smoke and ash.

Someone asked a question.

“Giri da,” Luxord answered. “It’s his duty.”

Facilier’s hand moved on it’s own, backhanding Luxord on the face so hard he fell on his chair.

Luxord had a death grip on his mirror. Facilier shook his hand out – Luxord’s cheekbones were like steel and his knuckles ached now – then dove for the mirror. Luxord rolled away and scrambled onto his knees, face pale as bone.

“Luxord, daijobuka?” snapped a voice from the mirror.

“Hai, hai. Dropped my mirror,” Luxord replied cooly; the only sign of how rattled he was was the way his words flipped between languages at the drop of a hat. “Xigbar, nan de you say?”

“Hold on, there’s a big Heartless coming. I need both hands,” the man on the mirror (Xigbar?) replied. “I’ll call you all back in ten.”  And the call ended.

Luxord broke the silence first. “Facilier. Why did you do that?”

“You – you just – “ Facilier sputtered.  “What the hell was that!”

“Was what?”

“All of that! You didn’t tell me Sora was a twelve year old!”

He didn’t think Luxord could have grown paler. He was wrong. “Actually, he’s fourteen – ”

“You knew! You knew and you just sat there while he killed himself!”

“It wasn’t – the only way to close the gate to the world of darkness that the Heartless pass through was to take the princess’s heart out of his own! He couldn’t end the Heartless without – ”

“I don’t really care about all that circumstantial mumbo jumbo! And if I did, do you think I’d accept a child committing suicide as a solution to anything? Much less after a friend he was crying out for just turned into dust?!”

“When we make Kingdom Hearts, he’ll come back!”

“When we make, when we make, if you make! He’s still dead now! Two children fighting to the death and you and your Organization stood and watched like it was entertainment!”

“Sora had a duty to the universe! He was a servant of the worlds and he played his part!”

“A servant – he’s a child! This isn’t his war!”

“It _is_ his war!”

They were both screaming at this point. Shadow was stretched between them, ready to knock Luxord back down if he made a move toward Facilier. But. Luxord’s face looked pale and hollow as a skull, his hands in front of him as if to defend himself.

“I was barely a few years older than him when I died. I wasn’t old enough to sacrifice myself for anything then!” Facilier snarled, stepping forward. Luxord stepped back. “Is this what you’ve been doing? Stalking him? Setting him up to die for you, a lamb for the slaughter? Is this why you never told me much about him?”

The look on Luxord’s face told Facilier everything he needed to know.

“Get out of my house!”

“But – “

Facilier waved two fingers at him, and Shadow hurled a plate. Luxord caught it out of the air, then another, a third as he backed away. “I can exp –

“Don’t pretend this wasn’t the end goal! Letting a little boy die for your sins! Just like a white man. Why was I fool enough to trust you?!”

The plates dropped from Luxord’s suddenly boneless hands.

Shadow yanked the ladder down in time for Luxord to back into it. Luxord shuddered, then looked up at it, then shoved his hand up. With a gust of wind, the trapdoor opened, and he twisted around to climb as quickly as possible.

The mirror clattered to the ground when all but Luxord’s knees were above the roof. Facilier stared at the damned thing, then picked it up like it might burn him.

The screen flickered back on. Xigbar said something in Luxord’s language as the camera swept around the emptied room – then to the huge rainbow portal in the center.

Heartless were streaming out of it. Too many of them to count. And a great hand shoved itself through, grabbed the side of the portal and pulled an enormous cloth body through. A glittering gemstone heart floated in the ghost’s empty chest.

Facilier threw the mirror out of the trapdoor before he could let pity soften his reaction. “Don’t come back!”

Luxord shut the trapdoor behind him with barely a sound.

Facilier stared up at it. And stared. And then he fell into his bed and didn’t get up for the rest of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just gonna reassure everyone that there WILL be a happy ending eventually!! and thank you for reading!!


	25. Day 1: Four of Pentacles

The magic mirror was the only light in the world of darkness.

_Xigbar, Saix, I was ambushed by a Heartless during your call. Apologies for my carelessness. I’m going to nurse my wounds and my pride out here. I’ll be back for a mission bright and early._

Luxord hit send and pocketed the mirror.

There were Heartless all around. Floating. Some people compared them to ants, but that wasn’t fair to ants. Ants helped break down dead wood into dirt, making the soil fertile again. There was a fungus that fed upon ants and grew in their corpses that was used to make medicine and heal disease.

The Heartless were a disease. No, they were worse than a disease. Diseases were a natural part of life. The Heartless were not natural to any world.

It was not rage or hate. That required a heart. You needed a heart to be upset. To lash out.

The Heartless were strong in this world.

“Stopza! Thundaga!” Gemstones fell into the sand.

 Luxord was stronger.

* * *

 

He came to the Castle That Never Was after what would have been midnight in Bayou Boulevard and dreamed of nothing. He rose mechanically, dressed mechanically, ate without tasting at the Gamblers’ cafeteria, and met Axel at the coffee machine just outside the Grey Room.

“You look like you died and came back last night,” Axel said as he poured expresso into his coffee. “Were you that embarrassed at falling on your face during the stream?”

“I’m related to half the people in the Organization,” Luxord said as he dumped sugar into his second cup of coffee in as many minutes. “What do you think?”

Axel whistled. “Never realized you were that messed up by public humiliation.”

“I should be used to it by now, shouldn’t I?” Luxord said. “My job is to be a punching bag for the apprentices, isn’t it? Everything good I’ve ever had is another log for the fire of their desires.”

“Don’t say that in front of Lexaeus or he’ll deck you again,” Axel said, and sprayed whipped cream in his coffee. “That’s dangerously close to sarcasm.”

“What sarcasm? I can only accept that I am kindling for the flame of progress,” Luxord said, and downed his coffee in one gulp. It burned his tongue. “The Organization is our life now. I shouldn’t expect to keep anything, including my dignity. It’s a simple fact.”

“Wow,” Axel said, and sipped his coffee. “It took you five years to figure that out?”

“No, I always knew. I just hoped for something slightly better,” Luxord said. “But it’s foolish to hope without a heart.”

“Maybe you should tell me more on our mission. We’re assigned together.”

“Perhaps I can.” They walked into the Grey Room together, where Zexion was sipping coffee on Lexaeus’s shoulder. “Do you know what Saix has assigned us yet?”

“Large Heartless extraction,” Zexion said. “I swapped with Saix. I’m going with you to today.”

“Oh,” Axel said.

“Fine,” Luxord said. “I’ll try and keep up with you, my Superior.”

“Try not to drop your cards like you drop your mirror,” Zexion said.

“Of course. My life is nothing but a chip on your pile,” Luxord said. “Ready to ante up?”

Saix gave them all a flat look from his normal place at the front of the room.  “When you’re ready, the mission is here.”

* * *

 

It was simple enough. Defeat or capture the giant Heartless that was haunting the clocktower in the Quarantine world through the warphole from Neverland. It looked like a badly created Halloween ghost costume, according to the photos Xigbar took of it when it emerged from Radiant Garden’s gate to darkness. It looked uncomfortably like Facilier’s drawings of the Heartless in his dreams.

Axel, Luxord and Zexion walked through the world of darkness in silence. While Zexion imitated brooding, Luxord and Axel discussed plans for fighting the Heartless.

“We’re two mages and a ranged attacker. If this isn’t weak to magic, we’re in trouble,” Luxord said.

“They wouldn’t send Zexion in if it wasn’t weak to magic,” Axel said.

“This is true. Our little minds can’t contemplate the sheer breadth and depth of his strategy,” Luxord said. “And if that fails, I can drop my mirror on it.”

“Ha ha,” Zexion deadpanned. “At this rate, it’s more likely that you’ll talk it to death.”

* * *

 

“The air there is ashen with smoke, so be prepared,” Luxord said as he worked at enlarging the portal.

“Is the barrier around it that hard to pierce?” Zexion asked. “You’ve been trying to open that portal for five minutes.”

“It’s a deep Quarantine world. It took Xigbar five minutes to get in,” Luxord said.

“But opening the initial portal is the most difficult one. You should have had this done in two minutes,” Zexion said.

A bead of sweat rolled down Luxord’s cheek. It was true. It should have been easy to rip into this world now that he and Xigbar had visited a couple times – but the darkness was struggling to rip through the world’s protective barrier. It was as if something inside the barrier was forcing the darkness back, healing the hole before Luxord could finish opening it.

“Let me do it,” Zexion said. He pulled out his weapon, a book of eldritch magic that the Dusks speculated was bound in human skin. Luxord doubted it for several reasons. One, the human nobodies were able to materialize their own weapons when they were born; Luxord upgraded his cards with rare metals, but he suspected he was the only one who bothered to customize his weapon to be more effective. And secondly, even if Zexion wasn’t too arrogant to bother, he didn’t know a thing about book-binding or tanning. The best he could do is kiss the pages like he kissed the Superior’s ass and wish that Demyx would kiss him back someday.

“There. See?” Zexion said, and stepped through the portal he made. Luxord sighed and followed him, Axel close behind.

It was good that Axel was so close, because a wave of vertigo hit Luxord like a brick to the face as soon as he stepped into the smoky air; he almost fell. Axel caught him in time. “Woah, woah, what was that?”

“It must be the air. I feel dizzy,” Luxord wheezed.

Zexion rolled his eyes. “This is why we have a curfew. You shouldn’t have stayed up all night.”

Luxord heard him as if through water, distant through a roar; it made it easy to bite back a sharp response. “Of course,” he said with a smile. “My apologies, Zexion. You are correct. I will just get my balance and investigate with you.”

He used the walls of the corridor inside the clock tower to steady himself. What was that noise? Was he imagining it? If he closed his eyes, he could swear there were words there, but what?

GODDESSES…. GRANTED ME A TOWER… MY OWN MAGIC INSCRIBED… BESEECH THEE… KING OF THIS NEW WORLD… PROTECTION….

Luxord staggered to the edge of the clocktower and looked down. There was his mother’s city, sprawled out along the river like a pile of coal; a few lights sparkled in the night like diamonds. Dust and ashes.

What was wrong with this picture?

WHAT ARE YOU

What was that sheet dancing in the wind?

THAT’S MY FACE

That heart, shimmering with light –

WHY DO YOU HAVE MY FACE

That heart –

GIVE ME BACK MY FACE!!

He couldn’t see the hand that grabbed him, as he was yanked into the air, tossed and slapped and falling falling falling –

The snow falling among the skeletons of trees as his father carried the three-year-old into the gardens. “I want to introduce you to your new brother.”

Luxord followed Ansem, a beacon of gold amid the white and black of the trees. Vexen was sitting in the garden, creating ice statues for Zexion. Zexion was only three, baby fat cheeks, silently watching Vexen’s magic with puppy dog eyes. Cute. “Papa Even’s been taking care of him when I’m out of school, so we haven’t formally met. Hello, Ienzo.” He knelt down and offered his hand to his little brother. Vexen grinned and ruffled his hair.

“Hi, Lourd.” Zexion shook his hand. He was so small. Ansem looked at Zexion like Ansem had looked at Luxord when he was a child, when he still had potential. He looked at Luxord with a warm smile as he helped Luxord onto the balance beam. He was still too short to get up on it on his own. “Thank you, Father! This time, I’ll make it all the way to the end!”

Xigbar hopped from one foot to the other at the other end of the balance beam. At ten, he was lanky, all legs and elbows with a few bruises from scrapping with Xaldin again. “Come on, lil bro! You can do it! And then we can try the monkey bars again!”

Luxord put one foot in front of the other. “I’ll do it this time, just watch!” And he let go of Ansem’s hand  and took Kairi’s. “She’s beautiful,” he whispered as the week-old child wrapped her hand around his pointer finger. “I wish I could have been there.”

Lexaeus gave him a small, rare smile. “You had your midterms.”

“I have a sister,” he breathed. “Look at her. Look at you. You’re practically my third father now. Kairi, can you say Aeleus-Dad yet?”

Kairi stuck her tongue out at him. She was so small, so pink, and Lexaeus hugged him and it was good everything was good and the baby stuck her tongue out at him. Luxord held her as Annette slept the sleep of the exhausted, and stuck his tongue out back. The patter of the shower slowed and stopped from the bathroom. Luxord was exhausted himself from casting healing spells for an hour, but it was worth it. This was worth it.

“You’re so small. Look at you. A heart who wanted to live so much you became a life. I can almost feel the joy burning inside you.”

The baby burbled at him.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re so big. My sister was a big baby. It’s a sign she was healthy.”

The clack of a cane. “Now isn’t this domestic?”

Luxord didn’t have to look up to recognize Facilier’s footsteps. “I didn’t get to see Kairi when she was born. My education was rigorous, and she was born when my classes had become particularly busy.”

“So when’d you get to see her?”

“About a week later. It’s not so bad, but – I wish I could have spent more time with her. From the benefit of hindsight.” He shifted the child in his arms. “One of my parents taught me how to make ice sculptures. Sometimes I’d make them for her in the gardens, when our Gran wasn’t babysitting her. She loved that.”

“You could do that for Boni, you know,” Facilier said. “It’s a long shot, but you might even get a chance at godfather for that stunt you pulled.”

“What, the healing? Anyone would do that. It was the right thing to do.”

“Only _you_ could do that. For all of that ‘I have no heart’ schtick, you’re a sap, you know?” Facilier pulled up a chair and sat next to Luxord. “You could make plenty of money being a ‘doctor’ here, once you get your heart back. You could be rich. You could have a mansion and eat beignets every day.”

Luxord thought about it. The two of them sharing a house, turning the Doctor in Doctor Facilier into something official, and the nieces and nephews would visit. He could grow ice flowers in the summer.

“I’m not sure if I could be a doctor on my own, but if you ever needed an assistant…”

Facilier had only answered him with a laugh. But the thought lingered. The two of them under one roof. Ice flowers in the garden for Boni and her sibling. Knowing that it wouldn’t be taken away in one night again –

Luxord was hanging from the Heartless’s enormous hand by his collar. Where it touched him, bleach-white cloth was turning dark, dark, black. The heart within glowed red, red, a terrible warm red, a thousand warm memories burning inside it. He could see his life reflected in the heart.

He retched as the Heartless raised him up, choking on bile and his coat cutting into his neck. THAT SHOULD BE MINE! MY BODY! MY LIFE! YOU’RE NOT ME! GIVE MY LIFE BACK TO ME!

A dark portal opened over the Heartless’s head. Axel came hurtling down with both chakrams blazing and a shrieked: “Firaga!”

He struck true. The heart reverberated and shook, and the Heartless howled and spun to claw at Axel. Axel opened a portal as he fell, fell through it and dropped onto the clocktower roof, where he waved his chakrams mockingly. “Hey fuckface, stop picking on the nerd and come at me!”

The Heartless waved its free hand over the heart, which turned blue. Luxord stared into it and saw the huge arm of a Heartless raising him up by the neck, up, up, choking, and the Seeker of Darkness laughed as he clawed for air. A figure of shadows hidden in sackcloth whose hands looked like smoke, whose grip was hard as steel.  “Enjoy your last futile seconds of life. Your heart shall fall to darkness!”

Not again, he thought as icy claws of fear raked through him as –

 Icy-

Ice.

“Blizzaga!”

The spell only nicked the Heartless, but it was enough to make it drop him. Luxord felt a portal open under him and he landed with a thwack in the clocktower corridors next to Zexion. He heard him say something, something, but he couldn’t make out the words as the contents of his stomach forced themselves out of his mouth and onto Zexion’s shoes.

Zexion was yelling. Of course he was.

More feet clattered next to him. Axel’s voice. Axel. Luxord tried to push himself to his feet, but another wave of nausea left him choking up vomit. All he could hear was screaming.

I AM THE KING! I DEFEND MY REALM! I CALL UPON MY TOWER’S MAGIC – MY OTHER SELF, GIVE ME POWER!

Do I really sound this dramatic? Luxord thought as he shoved himself onto his knees. He could feel the Heartless sucking magic from the silver runes Luxord had drawn on the clock some weeks past.

THE LAST ONE TO RUN OUT OF TIME IS THE LOSER!

I am not this dramatic, Luxord thought. Definitely not.

Luxord. Luxord. “Hey, Luxord,” Axel said. “Time magic. Numbers. Head. What’s? Zexion.”

Numbers floated over Zexion. Counting down. He recognized it at once. “Doom spell,” Luxord said.

“Shit,” Axel said.

Luxord felt another portal open up, and then Axel picked him up and tossed him through. A moment later, Zexion was shoved in after him. Axel closed the portal behind him and Luxord’s ears popped with the sudden silence.

There was yelling. Of course there was. Zexion was there. Brat. Not even a word of worry as Luxord passed out.

* * *

 

The first thing Luxord thought when he woke up was: ow.

The second was: fuck.

The third was: this place hasn’t changed.

Emergency care for the Nobodies who lead the Organization was rare, since most drastic injuries lead to immediate death when facing the Heartless. Those who did survive were banished to Vexen’s lab to be taped back together and shoved into missions as soon as possible.

Sterile white walls. Sterile lemon smell. Scathing look from Vexen, gawking at Luxord like a vulture.

“What?” Luxord croaked.

“Broken collarbone, eleven rib fractures, massive bruising, and you didn’t even catch the Heartless?” Vexen asked.

Typical, Luxord thought. “I tried,” he rasped. “How’d the mission end?”

“The Heartless cast a death spell on Zexion, the time spell Doom. Since the only way to dispel it was to go to another world or kill it, Zexion and Axel were forced to leave. It would have been useful if a time mage could have dispelled it, but it seems like he lost his head during the battle.”

“It concussed me before I could get in a good attack,” Luxord said.

“You could have died!”

A smile tugged at Luxord’s lips. “Did I worry you?”

“Of course! We only just got thirteen. We can’t go back to twelve after a day.”

The smile faded. “Sora’s Nobody?”

Vexen jerked a thumb to one of the other beds. A blonde boy slept there; his face had some resemblance to Sora’s.

“Didn’t realize Sora dyed his hair,” Luxord muttered.

“Sometimes Nobodies look different from their full forms,” Vexen said with a shrug. “We don’t know why. I’m sure we’ll find out sooner or later.”

“You’ll find out? What, you haven’t broken out the scalpel yet?”

“The Superior saw him summon the keyblade. He’s too important to risk,” Vexen huffed.

“That didn’t stop you from putting me under the knife. But I’ve always been expendable, haven’t I?” Luxord said as he sat up. “I’d have been just as useful to you as a Dusk.”

“That’s not true. Your efficiency as an agent has been remarkable,” Vexen said.

“My efficiency. My prowess in the Organization,” Luxord said. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I am, as ever, your obedient servant and nothing more.”

“Good. I need you to watch some things in the lab. The scans on Roxas should be finished soon.”

Luxord huffed. Vexen hadn’t noticed what he’d declared. Did he try and do it again? Or should he go back to keeping his head low?

“I understand that data on Roxas is more important than anything to do with me,” Luxord said, and watched Vexen for a reaction.

Vexen didn’t react. He was still fiddling with the machinery around Roxas. “Of course. He’s got the keyblade. We can use him.”

“He’s everything you Apprentices hoped to gain as a new member of the Organization: a tool you can use to destroy your enemies, with no personal attachments.”

“Yes, of co- wait a minute.” Vexen turned and squinted at Luxord. “What was that about attachments?”

Luxord spread his arms like the Superior. “I was saying that all you want in the Organization is someone powerful you can use. All that the Apprentices desire are tools they can mold – just like you wanted in life.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Vexen asked.

“Just what I said. All you desire is a tool to mold and use to your benefit. That’s all you’ve ever wanted. It’s a pity that you have to fall back on familial allegiances to get anyone to do what you want; it proves you’re incompetent both as a parent and as a leader. It’s no wonder Ansem started cheating on you when I was twelve – ”

Vexen was turning red. Even if Luxord wanted to stop, he couldn’t now. It was as if a dam had burst inside him.

“The question is, do you think Zexion pretends to listen to you because he knows that his poor papa Lexaeus loved you when he was human, or because he wants your lab when you finally die? He favored Xehanort over you as soon as the man landed in the city square. What do you think would be worse: that your status as parent was usurped by an amnesiac 20 year old, or that Zexion never thought of you as a father at all?”

Vexen slapped him. It didn’t hurt at all compared to how Facilier had hit him. “Shut up!”

“What are you going to do, sic Lexaeus on me? You only have power because you can sic your son and your boyfriend on people who annoy you.”

Vexen turned even redder, marched to a door to an adjoining lab, and slammed it open. “No. V, talk to your son!!”

Luxord felt his mouth crack open in a smile as Lexaeus emerged from the labs. “What is he going to do, kill me? I’m already dead. Break my ribs? We did that last month. Turn me into a dusk? It’s not like you two can make me more miserable than I am now.”

“You don’t have a heart,” Lexaeus said.

“Exactly! So I can’t be sad, or happy, or anything. Feelings are an illusion. My duty to you two has been based on something that hasn’t existed for a decade – no, for at least fifteen years, I’d say. Or has it ever existed?”

“Has what existed?” Vexen demanded.

“Filial piety is based on the obligation of children to respect and obey the parents who raised them. It’s part of giri, our duty to be a servant of the world and to fulfill our obligations. But it is a fool’s errand to extend such piety to someone who has never been my parent, is it not? What obligation was there ever to fulfill?”

“Lexaeus, make him stop!” Vexen snapped. “Lexaeus!”

Lexaeus did not move from where he stood. “Is this a declaration of war on the Organization?”

“No. I still intend to gain Kingdom Hearts. I am still a Nobody with responsibilities. This is me declaring that I’m not going to stick my neck out for you two or Zexion anymore.”

Lexaeus snorted. “I did not expect childish teenage rebellion from a man of thirty-two, but perhaps it has been overdue. I have been too lenient with you.”

“Like breaking my ribs for offending Zexion’s delicate sensibilities? Forgive me for upsetting the family favorite, whom you’d sacrifice anything and anyone for.”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” Lexaeus said.

“Don’t I?” Luxord said. “It’s funny how ¾ of the survivors from Radiant Garden were the entirety of the Apprentices. If there is something that turns humans into Nobodies, it must have attacked you all at once, right? Instead of going to find your mother and daughter, you stayed in the castle to protect Ansem and his suck ups. I’m sure Kairi is glad that you didn’t bother to save her so she wouldn’t see you like this - ”

THWACK! Luxord hit the wall, and he felt some of his ribs crack again. “Worth it,” he wheezed as he fell to the floor.

“Don’t say her name,” Lexaeus said.

“Why not? Did I remind you of the child you abandoned to the Heartless? Did you finally remember her?”

Lexaeus raised his hand before the Superior cried: “Enough!”

Lexaeus and Vexen froze where they were. Luxord looked up to the door of the other lab, where Xemnas stood. Axel and Zexion peered over his shoulder. And he could see the rest of the Organization standing behind them. Everyone had seen their fight.

“What are you doing here?” Luxord asked.

“We are waiting for Roxas to wake up,” Xemnas said, “but it seems we’ve been given a show instead.” Vexen opened his mouth, but Xemnas quieted him with a sweep of his hand. “As long as you remain loyal to this Organization, you may go about your business, No. X.”

“When you say we, did you mean the entire Organization?” Luxord asked.

“Indeed.”

"Zexion wet the bed until he was eight, was terrified of kittens until he was nine, and is currently 600,000 munny over budget and planning to adjust the cost by shunting funds from the Berserkers and the aeronautics division,” Luxord said. “I maintain my loyalty to the Organization, but you three can go jump in a lake.” He bowed to Xemnas. “I’m going to my quarters now.”

“You may go,” Xemnas intoned.

As he swept away, Luxord glimpsed glowering Xaldin and grim Saix turning to face Zexion, who Lexaeus was beelining for. Good. They could have family bonding through it.

His ribs ached and crackled as he moved. So be it. It was worth it. It was worth it.

A nobody could not feel anything. And yet, as Luxord sunk onto his bed with a potion in one hand and a cure materia in the other, his body was suffused with warm satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the first day of "Dead Men's Party" happens on Mardi Gras, February 13 - which is this day when this chapter is being published!! (Although that takes place in 1923, whoops.) The day after that is Ash Wednesday and also Luxord's birthday! (and, for everyone not super familiar with Churchy Nonsense, that also means that htis year's easter is ALSO on april fool's day!! like in emeralds for easter!) 
> 
> This chapter was illustrated by the amazing snowflake-owl, who has been patiently waiting for me to publish this chapter for over a year after this art got finished!!! ( snowflake-owl.tumblr.com ) I've been on pins and needles waiting for a chance to show this gorgeous art off!


	26. Day 3: Hollow Bastion (Behemoth Battle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These next few chapters are pretty short, so I'm going to be releasing two at a time this time!! Here's part 1 of a 2 chapter update.

Facilier had not expected tears.

The tourist trash dolls he was making had blonde yarn hair and blue button eyes and they looked like Luxord. A catchet of dried herbs stuffed in their cotton heads made them smell like lavender.

They looked like him and it was not fair, and Facilier blamed himself for making them look like him in the first place. Why he had ever trusted that smooth-talking liar, he’d never know.

(Because he had brought oranges, and listened, and tied ribbons in his niece’s hair. Because he had looked at Facilier like a child seeing the moon for the first time, eyes wide in permanent wonder.)

Facilier didn’t miss him. He did not. This house was meant to be empty, to not have conversation filling the air, to not have eager footsteps treading the floorboards. This kitchen was meant to house one man and a shadow and no more, never more, and why had he ever thought otherwise?

Shadow carried over a bowl of oatmeal and a spoon and shoved it at him.

“I’m not hungry.” Facilier pushed the bowl back at xem.

_You haven’t eaten since yesterday. Come on._

“Fine,” Facilier said. “But I won’t like it.”


	27. Day 7: No. XIV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's part 2 of a double chapter post!! And thank you for being patient with all these waits between chapters! We're finally nearing the end of Kingdom Hearts 1!!

“Hello, Roxas,” Luxord said.

The boy had wandered into the small room that had was going to be christened The Incubator Of Caffeine as soon as Xemnas realized that no one was going to take the coffee machine back to Xaldin’s room. Roxas stared up with blank blue eyes as flat as water untouched by wind.

For being Sora’s nobody, Roxas really didn’t look like Sora at all. Sora had been all round cheeks and fluffy hair and bounced like the puppy he looked like. Roxas looked as if someone had painted Sora in watercolors and tossed a bucket on it, leaving only a pale facsimile of the real thing.

He’d never seen a humanoid Nobody that didn’t look like their whole self before. But then again, it wasn’t as if there were many of them he’d seen. Not many Nobodies were stable enough to maintain a human form. One in a thousand.  

“Have you left your babysitter once more?” Luxord asked. The boy’s head bobbled like a charm in the wind. “You should go find him. It’s in your interests to be associated with someone slightly higher on the food chain.” He placed a cup of hot chocolate that was more ice than drink into Roxas’s hands and shooed him into the corridor.

He heard Larxene scoff, heard Axel gently direct the boy to where they were all meeting. Another meeting? Luxord thought. Facilier would laugh if he heard about how many they’d had in the past week –

Luxord sighed. No. No, he wouldn’t.

He downed his scalding coffee in one gulp, winced at the burn, and headed to the great room with the enormously tall chairs: Where Nothing Gathers.

* * *

 

“Good tidings, friends. Today is a momentous occasion,” Xemnas intoned. If Luxord hadn’t just drank an entire pot of coffee, he’d be falling asleep. Slumber had a terrible lure, this week. Between his injury and –

No, it was just recovering from having a Heartless turn him into a volleyball and then his family trying to spike him. No other reason. No heart to break, after all.

Roxas looked just as vacant as Luxord felt. A void which nothing could fill. That was what a Nobody was, after all. A shell incapable of anything. He wasn’t expected to look interested in whatever the Superior was rambling about today.

“Number XIV.  Let us all welcome one of the keyblade’s chosen,” Xemnas concluded. A teen-sized person stepped into the middle of the room, the hood of their black coat hiding everything except a vacant smile.

New member, huh? It was a little inconvenient they had appeared just after they had reached thirteen – there were no more seats. Xion would be left out at meetings until a new seat was made available. But perhaps that was a stroke of luck – they’d be free from these meaningless meetings that would be of little interest to a young warrior.

“Sora has penetrated the End of the World,” Xemnas announced. “He will no doubt battle the Seeker of Darkness soon enough. If the Seeker is destroyed, we will gain a great many hearts for Kingdom Hearts. I believe it would be in our interests to make it easy for Sora to get from the End of the World to Castle Oblivion afterwards so that we may test the castle.”

Vexen, already leaning forward to peer at Xion, asked about the castle, about his projects, and Luxord tuned it out. He’d already heard enough about Vexen’s science projects for one lifetime. Lucky Roxas, he thought; the boy could sleep through the whole thing without a word of protest from Saix.

It was only when Xemnas started discussing who would go to Castle Oblivion that Luxord tuned back in.

“Vexen. Lexaeus. Zexion. Marluxia. Larxene. Axel. These six shall use the castle to capture the power of the keyblade.”

Luxord raised his hand. “Superior, I helped negate the curse on the castle by changing its mechanics for opening doors from a board game to a card game. Would it not help for me to go?”

Xemnas smirked. “There is no need for that, Luxord. With your recent issues with No. IV and VI, it seems foolish to have you leave The World That Never Was. And I believe No. XI was complaining that you have restricted him too much in your budgeting.”

“He’s a cruel taskmaster,” Marluxia said with no shame at all.

“Then I’ll settle myself here,” Luxord said. “All this science is well over my head. All I’m good for is gambling, after all.”

Xemnas chuckled. Vexen looked down his nose at Luxord, and Zexion looked up his nose at him, and it was remarkable how they could look so similar despite Zexion being adopted. Perhaps an intellectual aura of smugness was nurture, not nature. 

* * *

 

After the meeting, Axel bustled off with Roxas in tow. Luxord could hear him teasing the boy. Roxas looked at him blankly as Axel steered him through the hallways. It reminded him of how, long ago, his parents had brought a mute little boy from a fire and lead him through the halls of their home. Ansem holding one hand, Even the other, and little Ienzo clinging to both of them -

Luxord’s hand twitched. His new cup of coffee, steaming hot, was crushed. Scalding liquid oozed over his leather glove.

“Whoops,” Luxord said. He dropped the cup in the garbage can, then washed his gloves in the sink.

He was a Nobody. He felt nothing. And once he cleaned up the mess he’d made, he’d ask Saix for his next job.


End file.
